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ANGEL ESQUIRE 


BY 


EDGAR WALLACE 

Author of Four Just Men,” etc,, etc. 



NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
1908 



LI8RARY of CONGRE^3S 


two OoDies 

JUL 13 ma 


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Jun 

CLASS' 


:OPY 13, 


COPYRIGHT, 1908, 

BY 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 


Published July, 1908 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

THE LOMBARD STREET DEPOSIT ... I 
CHAPTER II. 

THE HOUSE IN TERRINGTON SQUARE . . 10 

CHAPTER III. 

ANGEL ESQUIRE 35 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE " BOROUGH LOT 59 

CHAPTER V. 

THE CRYPTOGRAM 85 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE RED ENVELOPE ..... 10/ 

CHAPTER VII. 

WHAT THE RED ENVELOP^HELD . . . I29 

CHAPTER VIII. 

OLD GEORGE 1 49 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE GREAT ATTEMPT ..... I 72 

V 


VI 


Contents 


CHAPTER X. page 

SOME BAD CHARACTERS .... 202 

CHAPTER XI. 

THE QUEST OF THE BOOK .... 223 

CHAPTER XII. 

WHAT HAPPENED AT FLAIRBY MILL . . 238 

CHAPTER XIII. 

CONNOR TAKES A HAND .... 260 

CHAPTER XIV. 

OPENING THE SAFE ..... 283 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE SOLUTION .. .. . . 306 


ANGEL ESQUIRE 


CHAPTER I 

THE LOMBARD STREET DEPOSIT 

Mr. William Spedding, of the firm of Sped- 
ding, Mortimer and Larach, Solicitors, bought 
the site in Lombard Street in the conventional 
way. The property came into the market on the 
death of an old lady who lived at Market Har- 
borough, who has nothing to do with this story, 
and it was put up to auction in the orthodox 
fashion. 

Mr. William Spedding secured the site at £io6,- 
ooo, a sum sufficiently large to excite the interest 
of all the evening papers and a great number of 
the morning journals as well. 

As a matter of exact detail, I may add that 
plans were produced and approved by the city 
surveyor for the erection of a building of a 


2 Angel Esquire 

peculiar type. The city surveyor was a little puz- 
zled by the interior arrangement of the new edi- 
fice, but as it fulfilled all the requirements of the 
regulations governing buildings in the City of 
London, and no fault could be found either with 
the external appearance — its fagade had been so 
artfully designed that you might pass a dozen 
times a day without the thought occurring that 
this new building was anything out of the com- 
mon ruck — and as the systems of ventilation and 
light were beyond reproach, he passed the plans 
with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“ I cannot understand, Mr. Spedding,’' he said, 
laying his forefinger on the blue print, ‘‘ how your 
client intends securing privacy. There is a lobby 
and one big hall. Where are the private offices, 
and what is the idea of this huge safe in the mid- 
dle of the hall, and where are the clerks to sit ? I 
suppose he will have clerks? Why, man, he 
won’t have a minute’s peace ! ” 

Mr. Spedding smiled grimly. 

“ He will have all the peace he wants,” he said. 


The Lombard Street Deposit 3 

And the vaults — I should have thought that 
vaults would be the very thing you wanted for 
this.” He tapped the corner of the sheet where 
was inscribed decorously : “ Plan for the erection 
of a New Safe Deposit.” 

“ There is the safe,” said Mr. Spedding, and 
smiled again. 

This William Spedding, now unhappily no 
longer with us — he died suddenly, as I will relate 
— was a large, smooth man with a suave manner. 
He smoked good cigars, the ends of which he 
snipped off with a gold cigar-cutter, and his smile 
came readily, as from a man who had no fault 
to find with life. 

To continue the possibly unnecessary details, I 
may add further that whilst tenders were re- 
quested for the erection of the New Safe Deposit, 
the provision of the advertisement that the lowest 
tender would not necessarily be accepted was 
justified by the fact that the offer of Potham and 
Holloway was approved, and it is an open secret 
that their tender was the highest of all. 


4 Angel Esquire 

'‘My client requires the very best work; he 
desires a building that will stand shocks.” Mr. 
Spedding shot a swift glance at the contractor, 
who sat at the other side of the desk. " Some- 
thing that a footling little dynamite explosion 
would not scatter to the four winds.” 

The contractor nodded. 

" You have read the specification,” the solicitor 
went on — ^he was cutting a new cigar, " and in 
regard to the pedestal — ah — the pedestal, you 
know ? ” 

He stopped and looked at the contractor. 

" It seems all very clear,” said the great builder. 
He took a bundle of papers from an open bag by 
his side and read, " The foundation to be of con- 
crete to the depth of twenty feet . . . The 

pedestal to be alternate layers of dressed granite 
and steel ... in the center a steel-lined 
compartment, ten inches by five, and half the 
depth of the pedestal itself.” 

The solicitor inclined his head. 

" That pedestal is to be the most important 


The Lombard Street Deposit 5 

thing in the whole structure. The steel-lined re- 
cess — I don’t know the technical phrase — which 
one of these days your men will have to fill in, is 
the second most important ; but the safe that is to 
stand fifty feet above the floor of the building is 
to be — ^but the safe is arranged for.” 

An army of workmen, if the hackneyed phrase 
be permitted, descended upon Lombard Street and 
pulled down the old buildings. They pulled them 
down, and broke them down, and levered them 
down, and Lombard Street grew gray with dust. 
The interiors of quaint old rooms with grimy oak 
paneling were indecently exposed to a passing 
public. Clumsy, earthy carts blocked Lombard 
Street, and by night flaring Wells’ lights roared 
amidst the chaos. 

And bare-armed men sweated and delved by 
night and by day; and one morning Mr. Spedding 
stood in a drizzle of rain, with a silk umbrella 
over his head, and expressed, on behalf 01 Ins 
client, his intense satisfaction at the progress 
made. He stood on a slippery plank that formed 


6 Angel Esquire 

a barrow road, and workmen, roused to unusual 
activity by the presence of “ The Firm ’’ — Mr. 
Spedding’s cicerone — amoved to and fro at a 
feverish rate of speed. 

“ They don't mind the rain," said the lawyer, 
sticking out his chin in the direction of the toiling 
gangs. 

‘‘ The Firm " shook his head. 

“ Extra pay," he said laconically, we provided 
for that in the tender," he hastened to add in 
justification of his munificence. 

So in rain and sunshine, by day and by night, 
the New Safe Deposit came into existence. 

Once — it was during a night shift, a brougham 
drove up the deserted city street, and a footman 
helped from the dark interior of the carriage a 
shivering old man with a white, drawn face. He 
showed a written order to the foreman, and 
was allowed inside the unpainted gate of the 
‘‘ works." 

He walked gingerly amidst the debris of con- 
struction, asked no questions, made no replicc. r > 


The Lombard Street Deposit 7 

the explanations of the bewildered foreman, who 
wondered what fascination there was in a build- 
ing job to bring an old man from his bed at three 
o’clock on a chill spring morning. 

Only once the old man spoke. 

“ Where will that there pedestal be ? ” he asked 
in a harsh, cracked cockney voice; and when the 
foreman pointed out the spot, and the men even 
then busily filling in the foundation, the old man’s 
lips curled back in an ugly smile that showed 
teeth too white and regular for a man of his age. 
He said no more, but pulled the collar of his fur 
coat the tighter about his lean neck and walked 
wearily back to his carriage. 

The building saw Mr. Spedding’s client no 
more — if, indeed, it was Mr. Spedding’s client. 
So far as is known, he did not again visit Lom- 
bard Street before its completion — even when 
the last pane of glass had been fixed in the high 
gilded dome, when the last slab of marble had 
been placed in the ornate walls of the great hall, 
even when the solicitor came and stood in silent 


8 Angel Esquire 

contemplation before the great granite pedestal 
that rose amidst a scaffolding of slim steel girders 
supporting a staircase that wound upward to the 
gigantic mid-air safe. 

Not quite alone, for with him was the con- 
tractor, awed to silence by the immensity of his 
creation. 

“ Finished ! ’’ said the contractor, and his voice 
came echoing back from the dim spaces of the 
building. 

The solicitor did not answer. 

‘‘ Your client may commence business to-mor- 
row if he wishes.^' 

The solicitor turned from the pedestal. 

He is not ready yet,” he said softly, as 
though afraid of the echoes. 

He walked to where the big steel doors of the 
hall stood ajar, the contractor following. 

In the vestibule he took two keys from his 
pocket. The heavy doors swung noiselessly 
across the entrance, and Mr. Spedding locked 
them. Through the vestibule and out into the 


The Lombard Street Deposit 9 

busy street the two men walked, and the solicitor 
fastened behind him the outer doors. 

My client asks me to convey his thanks to 
you for your expedition,'^ the lawyer said. 

The builder rubbed his hands with some satis- 
faction. 

“ You have taken two days less than we ex- 
pected," Mr. Spedding went on. 

The builder was a man of few ideas outside his 
trade. He said again — 

“ Yes, your client may start business to- 
morrow." 

The solicitor smiled. 

My client, Mr. Potham, may not — er — start 
business — for ten years," he said. “ In fact, 
until — ^well, until he dies, Mr. Potham." 


CHAPTER II 


THE HOUSE IN TERRINGTON SQUARE 

A MAN turned into Terrington Square frc 
Seymour Street and walked leisurely past t 
policeman on point duty, bidding him a ci 
good night.’’ The officer subsequently descril 
the passer, as a foreign-looking gentleman wit! 
short pointed beard. Under the light overc 
he was apparently in evening dress, for the offi 
observed the shoes with the plain black bow, and 
the white silk muffler and the crush hat supported 
that view. The man crossed the road, and dis- 
appeared round the corner of the railed garden 
that forms the center of the square. A belated 
hansom came' jingling past, and an early news- 
paper cart, taking a short cut to Paddington, fol- 
lowed; then the square was deserted save for the 
man and the policeman. 

The grim, oppressive houses of the square were 

lO 


The House in Terrington Square ii 

wrapped in sleep — drawn blinds and shuttered 
windows and silence. 

The man continued his stroll until he came 
abreast of No. 43. Here he stopped for a sec- 
ond, gave one swift glance up and down the thor- 
oughfare, and mounted the three steps of the 
house. He fumbled a little with the key, turned 
it, and entered. Inside he stood for a moment, 
then taking a small electric lamp from his pocket 
he switched on the current. 

He did not trouble to survey the wide entrance 
hall, but flashed the tiny beam of light on the in- 
side face of the door. Two thin wires and a 
small coil fastened to the lintel called forth no 
comment. One of the wires had been snapped by 
the opening of the door. 

“ Burglar-alarm, of course,’' he murmured ap- 
provingly. “ All the windows similarly treated, 
and goodness knows what pitfalls waiting for the 
unwary.” 

He flashed the lamp round the hall. A heavy 
Turkish rug at the foot of the winding staircase 


12 Angel Esquire 

secured his attention. He took from his pocket 
a telescopic stick, extended it, and fixed it rigid. 
Then he walked carefully towards the rug. With 
his stick he lifted the corner, and what he saw 
evidently satisfied him, for he returned to the 
door, where in a recess stood a small marble 
statue. All his strength was required to lift this, 
but he staggered back with it, and rolling it on its 
circular base, as railway porters roll milk churns, 
he brought it to the edge of the rug. With a 
quick push he planted it square in the center of 
the carpet. For a second only it stood, oscillat- 
ing, then like a flash it disappeared, and where 
the carpet had lain was a black, gaping hole. He 
waited. Somewhere from the depths came a 
crash, and the carpet came slowly up again and 
filled the space. The unperturbed visitor nodded 
his head, as though again approving the house- 
holder's caution. 

1 don't suppose he has learnt any new ones," 
he murmured regretfully, ‘‘ he is getting very 
old." He took stock of the walls. They were 


The House in Terrington Square 13 

covered with paintings and engravings. “ He 
could not have fixed the cross fire in a modern 
house/' he continued, and taking a little run, leapt 
the rug and rested for a moment on the bottom 
stair. A suit of half armor on the first landing 
held him in thoughtful attention for a moment. 

Elizabethan body, with a Spanish bayonet,” he 
said regretfully; “that doesn’t look like a col- 
lector’s masterpiece.” He flashed the lamp up 
and down the* silent figure that stood in menacing 
attitude with a raised battle-ax. “ I don’t like 
that ax,” he murmured, and measured the dis- 
tance. 

Then he saw the fine wire that stretched across 
the landing. He stepped across carefully, and 
ranged himself alongside the steel knight. Slip- 
ping oflf his coat, he reached up and caught the 
figure by the wrist. Then with a quick jerk of 
his foot he snapped the wire. 

He had been prepared for the mechanical 
downfall of the ax; but as the wire broke the 
figure turned to the right, and swish! came the 


14 Angel Esquire 

ax in a semicircular cut. He had thought to 
hold the arm as it descended, but he might as well 
have tried to hold the piston-rod of an engine. 
His hand was wrenched away, and the razor-like 
blade of the ax missed his head by the fraction of 
a second. Then with a whir the arm rose stiffly 
again to its original position and remained rigid. 

The visitor moistened his lips and sighed. 

That’s a new one, a very new one,” he said 
under his breath, and the admiration in his tone 
was evident. He picked up his overcoat, flung 
it over his arm, and mounted half a dozen steps 
to the next landing. The inspection of the 
Chinese cabinet was satisfactory. 

The white beam of his lamp flashed into corners 
and crevices and showed nothing. He shook the 
curtain of a window and listened, holding his 
breath. 

Not here,” he muttered decisively, “ the old 
man wouldn’t try that game. Snakes turned 
loose in a house in London, S.W., take a deal of 
collecting in the morning.” 


The House in Terrington Square 15 

He looked round. From the landing access 
was gained to three rooms. That which from its 
position he surmised faced the street he did not 
attempt to enter. The second, covered by a heavy 
curtain, he looked at for a time in thought. To 
the third he walked, and carefully swathing the 
door-handle with his silk muffler, he turned it. 
The door yielded. He hesitated another moment, 
and jerking the door wide open, sprang back- 
ward. 

The interior of the room was for a second only 
in pitch darkness, save for the flicker of light that 
told of an open fireplace. Then the visitor heard 
a click, and the room was flooded with light. In 
the darkness on the landing the man waited ; then 
a voice, a cracked old voice, said grumblingly — 
Come in.'^ 

Still the man on the landing waited. 

Oh, come in, Jimmy — I know ye.’' 

Cautiously the man outside stepped through the 
entry into the light and faced the old man, who, 
arrayed in a wadded dressing-gown, sat in a big 


1 6 Angel Esquire 

chair by the fire — an old man, with white face and 
a sneering grin, who sat with his lap full of 
papers. 

The visitor nodded a friendly greeting. 

“ As far as I can gather,’' he said deliberately, 
we are just above your dressing-room, and if 
you dropped me through one of your patent traps, 
Reale, I should fetch up amongst your priceless 
china.” 

Save for a momentary look of alarm on the old 
man’s face at the mention of the china, he pre- 
served an imperturbable calm, never moving his 
eyes from his visitor’s face. Then his grin re- 
turned, and he motioned the other to a chair on 
the other side of the fireplace. 

Jimmy turned the cushion over with the point 
of his stick and sat down. 

‘‘ Suspicious ? ” — the grin broadened — “ sus- 
picious of your old friend, Jimmy? The old 
governor, eh ? ” 

Jimmy made no reply for a moment, then — 

“ You’re a wonder, governor, upon my word 


The House in Terrington Square 17 

you are a wonder. That man in armor — ^your 
idea ? 

The old man shook his head regretfully. 

“ Not mine entirely, Jimmy. Ye see, there's 
electricity in it, and I don't know much about 
electricity. I never did, except " 

“ Except ? " suggested the visitor. 

“ Oh, that roulette board, that was my own 
idea; but that was magnetism, which is different 
to electricity, by my way of looking." 

Jimmy nodded. 

“Ye got past the trap?" The old man had 
just a glint of admiration in his eye. 

“ Yes, jumped it." 

The old man nodded approvingly. 

“ You always was a one for thinkin' things out. 
I've known lots of 'em who would never have 
thought of jumping it. Connor, and that pig 
Massey, they'd have walked right on to it. You 
didn't damage anything?" he demanded sud- 
denly and fiercely. “ I heard somethin' break, 
an’ I was hoping that it was you." 


1 8 Angel Esquire 

Jimmy thought of the marble statue, and re- 
membered that it had looked valuable. 

Nothing at all,’’ he lied easily, and the old 
man’s tense look relaxed. 

The pair sat on opposite sides of the fireplace, 
neither speaking for fully ten minutes; then 
Jimmy leant forward. 

“ Reale,” he said quietly, how much are you 
worth ? ” 

In no manner ' disturbed by this leading ques- 
tion, but rather indicating a lively satisfaction, the 
other replied instantly — 

Two millions an’ a bit over, Jimmy. I’ve got 
the figures in my head. Reckonin’ furniture and 
the things in this house at their proper value, two 
millions, and forty- seven thousand and forty- 
three pounds — floatin’, Jimmy, absolute cash, the 
same as you might put your hand in your pocket 
an’ spend — a million an’ three-quarters exact.” 

He leant back in his chair with a triumphant 
grin and watched his visitor. 

Jimmy had taken a cigarette from his pocket 


The House in Tcrrington Square 19 

and was lighting it, looking at the slowly burning 
match reflectively. 

** A million and three-quarters,” he repeated 
calmly, “ is a lot of money.” 

Old Reale chuckled softly. 

“ All made out of the confiding public, with the 

aid of me — and Connor and Massey ” 

Massey is a pig!” the old man interjected 
spitefully. 

Jimmy puffed a cloud of tobacco smoke. 

Wrung with sweat and sorrow from foolish 
young men who backed the tiger and played high 
at Reale's Unrivaled Temple of Chance, Cairo, 
Egypt — with branches at Alexandria, Port Said, 
and Suez.” 

The figure in the wadded gown writhed in a 
paroxysm of silent merriment. 

How many men have you ruined. Reale ? ” 
asked Jimmy. 

“ The Lord knows I ” the old man answered 
cheerfully; only three as I knows of — two of 
’em's dead, one of 'em's dying. The two that's 


20 Angel Esquire 

dead left neither chick nor child; the dying one's 
got a daughter." 

Jimmy eyed him through narrowed lids. 

“ Why this solicitude for the relatives — ^you’re 
not going ? " 

As he spoke, as if anticipating a question, the 
old man was nodding his head with feverish 
energy, and all the while his grin broadened. 

‘‘ What a one you are for long words, Jimmy ! 
You always was. That's how you managed to 
persuade your swell pals to come an' try their 
luck. Solicitude! What's that mean ? Frettin' 
about 'em, d'ye mean? Yes, that's what I’m doin' 
— frettin' about 'em. And I'm going to make, 
what d'ye call it — ^you had it on the tip of your 
tongue a minute or two ago ? " 

“ Reparation ? " suggested jimmy. 

Old Reale nodded delightedly. 

How?" 

‘‘ Don’t you ask questions ! ” bullied the old 
man, his harsh voice rising. “ I ain't asked you 
why you broke into my house in the middle of 


The House in Terrington Square 21 

the night, though I knew it was you who came 
the other day to check the electric meter. I 
saw you, an’ I’ve been waitin’ for you ever 
since.” 

I knew all about that,” said Jimmy calmly, 
and flicked the ash of his cigarette away 
with his little finger, “ and I thought you 
would ” 

Suddenly he stopped speaking and listened. 

‘‘ Who’s in the house beside us ? ” he asked 
quickly, but the look on the old man’s face reas- 
sured him. 

Nobody,” said Reale testily. ‘‘ I’ve got a 
special house for the servants, and they come in 
every morning after I’ve unfixed my — ^burglar- 
alarms.” He grinned, and then a look of alarm 
came into his face. 

‘‘The alarms!” he whispered; “you broke 
them when you came in, Jimmy. I heard the 
signal. If there’s some one in the house we 
shouldn’t know it now.” 

They listened. 


22 Angel Esquire 

Down below in the hall something creaked, 
then the sound of a soft thud came up. 

‘‘ He’s skipped the rug,” whispered Jimmy, and 
switched out the light. 

The two men heard a stealthy footstep on the 
stair, and waited. There was the momentary 
glint of a light, and the sound of some one breath- 
ing heavily. Jimmy leant over and whispered in 
the old man’s ear. 

Then, as the handle of the door was turned and 
the door pushed open, Jimmy switched on the 
light. 

The new-comer was a short, thick-set man with 
a broad, red face. He wore a check suit of a 
particularly glaring pattern, and on the back of 
his head was stuck a bowler hat, the narrow brim 
of which seemed to emphasize the breadth of his 
face. A casual observer might have placed him 
for a coarse, good-natured man of rude but bois- 
terous humor. The ethnological student would 
have known him at once for what he was — a cruel 
man-beast without capacity for pity. 


The House in Terrington Square 23 

He started back as the lights went on, blinking 
a little, but his hand held an automatic pistol that 
covered the occupants of the room. 

“ Put up your hands,’’ he growled. ‘‘ Put ’em 
up!” 

Neither man obeyed him. Jimmy was amused 
and looked it, stroking his short beard with his 
white tapering fingers. The old man was fury 
incarnate. 

He it was that turned to Jimmy and croaked — 

'' What did I tell ye, Jimmy ? What’ve I al- 
ways said, Jimmy? Massey is a pig — ^he’s got 
the manners of a pig. Faugh I ” 

Put up your hands ! ” hissed the man with 
the pistol. “ Put ’em up, or I’ll put you both 
out I ” 

“If he’d come first, Jimmy!” Old Reale 
wrung his hands in his regret. “ S’pose he’d 
jumped the rug — any sneak thief could have done 
that — d’ye think he’d have spotted the man in 
armor? If you’d only get the man in armor 
ready again.” 


24 Angel Esquire 

Put your pistol down, Massey,” said Jimmy 
coolly, unless you want something to play with. 
Old man Reale’s too ill for the gymnastics you 
suggest, and Pm not inclined to oblige you.” 

The man blustered. 

'' By God, if you try any of your monkey tricks 

with me, either of you ” 

Oh, I’m only a visitor like yourself,” said 
Jimmy, with a wave of his hand; ‘‘and as to 
monkey tricks, why, I could have shot you before 
you entered the room.” 

Massey frowned, and stood twiddling his pistol. 

“ You will find a safety catch on the left side of 
the barrel,” continued Jimmy, pointing to the 
pistol; “ snick it up — ^you can always push it down 
again with your thumb if you really mean busi- 
ness. You are not my idea of a burglar. You 
breathe too noisily, and you are built too clumsily ; 
why, I heard you open the front door ! ” 

The quiet contempt in the tone brought a 
deeper red into the man’s face. 

“ Oh, you are a clever ’un, we know ! ” he be- 


The House in Terrington Square 25 

gan, and the old man, who had recovered his self- 
command, motioned him to a chair. 

“ Sit down. Mister Massey,” he snapped; ‘‘ sit 
down, my fine fellow, an’ tell us all the news. 
Jimmy an’ me was just speakin’ about you, me an’ 
Jimmy was. We was saying what a fine gentle- 
man you was ” — his voice grew shrill — “ what a 
swine, what an overfed, lumbering fool of a pig 
you was. Mister Massey ! ” 

He sank back into the depths of his chair ex- 
hausted. 

“ Look here, governor,” began Massey again — 
he had laid his pistol on a table by his side, and 
waved a large red hand to give point to his re- 
marks — “ we don’t want any unpleasantness. 
I’ve been a good friend to you, an’ so has Jimmy. 
We’ve done your dirty work for years, me an’ 
Jimmy have, and Jimmy knows it ” — ^turning 
with an ingratiating smirk to the subject of his 
remarks — “ and now we want a bit of our own — 
that is all it amounts to, our own.” 

Old Reale looked under his shaggy eyebrows to 


26 Angel Esquire 

where Jimmy sat with brooding eyes watching the 
fire. 

“ So it's a plant, eh ? You’re both in it. 
Jimmy comes first, he being the clever one, an’ 
puts the lay nice an’ snug for the other feller.” 

Jimmy shook his head. 

Wrong,” he said. He turned his head and 
took a long scrutiny of the newcomer, and the 
amused contempt of his gaze was too apparent. 

“ Look at him ! ” he said at last. Our dear 
Massey! Does he look the sort of person I am 
likely to share confidence with ? ” 

A cold passion seemed suddenly to possess him. 

“ It’s a coincidence that brought us both to- 
gether.” 

He rose and walked to where Massey sat, and 
stared down at him. There was something in the 
look that sent Massey’s hand wandering to his 
pistol. 

“ Massey, you dog ! ” he began, then checked 
himself with a laugh and walked to the other end 
of the room. There was a tantalus with a soda 


The House in Terrington Square 27 

siphon, and he poured himself a stiff portion and 
sent the soda fizzling into the tumbler. He held 
the glass to the light and looked at the old man. 
There was a look on the old man’s face that he 
remembered to have seen before. He drank his 
whisky and gave utterance to old Reale’s thoughts. 

“ It’s no good, Reale, you’ve got to settle with 
Massey, but not the way you’re thinking. We 
could put him away, but we should have to put 
ourselves away too.” He paused. ‘‘ And there’s 
me,” he added. 

And Connor,” said Massey thickly, ‘‘ and 
Connor’s worse than me. I’m reasonable. Reale; 

I’d take a fair share ” 

‘‘ You would, would you? ” 

The old man was grinning again. 

‘‘ Well, your share’s exactly a million an’ three- 
quarters in solid cash, an’ a bit over two millions 
—all in.” 

He paused to notice the effect of his words. 
Jimmy’s calm annoyed him; Massey’s indiffer- 
ence was outrageous. 


28 Angel Esquire 

“An’ it’s Jimmy’s share, an’ Connor’s share, 
an’ it’s Miss Kathleen Kent’s share.” 

This time the effect was better. Into 
Jimmy’s inexpressive face had crept a gleam of 
interest. 

“ Kent ? ” he asked quickly. “ Wasn’t that the 
name of the man ? ” 

Old Reale chuckled. 

“ The very feller, Jimmy — the man who came 
in to lose a tenner, an’ lost ten thousand; who 
came in next night to get it back, and left his lot. 
That’s the feller ! ” 

He rubbed his lean hands, as at the memory of 
some pleasant happening. 

“ Open that cupboard, Jimmy.” He pointed to 
an old-fashioned walnut cabinet that stood near 
the door. “ D’ye see anything — a thing that looks 
like a windmill ? ” 

Jimmy drew out a cardboard structure that was 
apparently a toy working-model. He handled it 
carefully, and deposited it on the table by the old 
man’s side. Old Reale touched it caressingly. 


The House in Terrington Square 29 

With his little finger he set a fly-wheel spinning, 
and tiny little pasteboard rods ran to and fro, and 
little wooden wheels spun easily. 

That’s what I did with his money, invented a 
noo machine that went by itself — perpetual mo- 
tion. You can grin, Massey, but that’s what I 
did with it. Five years’ work an’ a quarter of a 
million, that’s what that little model means. I 
never found the secret out. I could always make 
a machine that would go for hours with a little 
push, but it always wanted the push. I’ve been 
a chap that went in for inventions and puzzles. 
D’ye remember the table at Suez ? ” 

He shot a sly glance at the men. 

Massey was growing impatient as the reminis- 
cences proceeded. He had come that night with 
an object; he had taken a big risk, and had not 
lost sight of the fact. Now he broke in — 

Damn your puzzles, Reale. What about me; 
never mind about Jimmy. What’s all this rotten 
talk about two millions for each of us, and this 
girl ? When you broke up the place in Egypt you 


30 Angel Esquire 

said we should stand in when the time came. 
Well, the time’s come ! ” 

‘‘ Nearly, nearly,” said Reale, with his death’s- 
head grin. It’s nearly come. You needn’t 
have troubled to see me. My lawyer’s got your 
addresses. I’m nearly through,” he went on 
cheerfully; dead I’ll be in six months, as sure 
as — as death. Then you fellers will get the 
money ” — ^he spoke slowly to give effect to his 
words — you Jimmy, or Massey or Connor or 
the young lady. You say you don’t like puzzles, 
Massey? Well, it’s a bad look out for you. 
Jimmy’s the clever un, an’ most likely he’ll get it; 
Connor’s artful, and he might get it from Jimmy; 
but the young lady’s got the best chance, because 
women are good at puzzles.” 

“ What in hell ! ” roared Massey, springing to 
his feet. 

“ Sit down ! ” It was Jimmy that spoke, and 
Massey obeyed. 

‘‘ There’s a puzzle about these two millions,” 
Reale went on, and his croaky voice, with its 


The House in Terrington Square 31 

harsh cockney accent, grew raucous in his enjoy- 
ment of Massey's perplexity and Jimmy's knit 
brows. “ An' the one that finds the puzzle out, 
gets the money." 

Had he been less engrossed in his own amuse- 
ment he would have seen a change in Massey's 
brute face that would have warned him. 

“ It's in my will," he went on. ‘‘ I'm goin' to 
set the sharps against the flats; the touts of the 
gamblin' hell — that's you two fellers — against the 
pigeons. Two of the biggest pigeons is dead, an' 
one's dying. Well, he's got a daughter; let's see 

what she can do. When I'm dead " 

That's now ! " bellowed Massey, and leant 
over and struck the old man. 

Jimmy, on his feet, saw the gush of blood and 
the knife in Massey's hand, and reached for his 
pocket. 

Massey's pistol covered him, and the man's face 
was a dreadful thing to look upon. 

Hands up ! It's God's truth I'll kill you if 
you don't ! " 


32 


Angel Esquire 

Jimmy’s hands went up. 

“ He’s got the money here,” breathed Massey, 
“ somewhere in this house.” 

“ You’re mad,” said the other contemptuously. 
‘‘ Why did you hit him ? ” 

“ He sat there makin’ a fool of me.” The 
murderer gave a vicious glance at the inert figure 
on the floor. “ I want something more than his 
puzzle-talk. He asked for it.” 

He backed to the table where the decanter 
stood, and drank a tumbler half-filled with raw 
spirit. 

“ We’re both in this, Jimmy,” he said, still 
keeping his man covered. ‘‘ You can put down 
your hands; no monkey tricks. Give me your 
pistol.” 

Jimmy slipped the weapon from his pocket, and 
handed it butt foremost to the man. Then Mas- 
sey bent over the fallen man and searched his 
pockets. 

Here are the keys. You stay here,” said 
Massey, and went out, closing the door after him. 


The House in Terrington Square 33 

Jimmy heard the grate of the key, and knew 
he was a prisoner. He bent over the old man. 
He lay motionless. Jimmy tried the pulse, and 
felt a faint flutter. Through the clenched teeth 
he forced a little whisky, and after a minute the 
old man’s eyes opened. 

‘‘Jimmy!” he whispered; then remembering, 
“Where’s Massey?” he asked. 

There was no need to inquire the whereabouts 
of Massey. His blundering footfalls sounded in 
the room above. 

“ Lookin’ for money ? ” gasped the old man, 
and something like a smile crossed his face. 
“ Safe’s up there,” he whispered, and smiled 
again. “ Got the keys ? ” 

Jimmy nodded. 

The old man’s eyes wandered round the room 
till they rested on what looked like a switchboard. 

“ See that handle marked ‘ seven ’ ? ” he whis- 
pered. 

Jimmy nodded again. 

“ Pull it down, Jimmy boy.” His voice was 


34 Angel Esquire 

growing fainter. ‘‘ This is a new one that I read 
in a book. Pull it down.” 

Why?” 

“ Do as I tell you,” the lips motioned, and 
Jimmy walked across the room and pulled over 
the insulated lever. 

As he did there was a heavy thud overhead that 
shook the room, and then silence. 

What’s that ? ” he asked sharply. 

The dying man smiled. 

‘‘ That’s Massey ! ” said the lips. 

Half an hour later Jimmy left the house with 
a soiled slip of paper in his waistcoat pocket, on 
which was written the most precious verse of dog- 
gerel that the world has known. 

And the discovery of the two dead men in the 
upper chambers the next morning afforded the 
evening press the sensation of the year. 


f 


CHAPTER III 

ANGEL ESQUIRE 

Nobody quite knows how Angel Enquire came 
to occupy the position he does at Scotland Yard. 
On his appointment, An Officer of Twenty 
Years’ Standing ” wrote to the Police Review and 
characterized the whole thing as a job.” Prob- 
ably it was. For Angel Esquire had been many 
things in his short but* useful career, but never a 
policeman. He had been a big game shot, a 
special correspondent, a “ scratch ” magistrate, 
and his nearest approach to occupying a responsi- 
ble position in any police force in the world was 
when he was appointed a J.P. of Rhodesia, and, 
serving on the Tuli Commission, he hanged 
M’Linchwe and six of that black desperado’s com- 
panions. 

His circle of acquaintances extended to the 
suburbs of London, and the suburbanites, who 
35 


36 Angel Esquire 

love you to make their flesh creep, would sit in 
shivering but pleasurable horror whilst Angel 
Esquire elaborated the story of the execution. 

In Mayfair Angel Esquire was best known as 
a successful mediator. 

'' Who is that old-looking young man with the 
wicked eye ? asked the Dowager Duchess of 
Hoeburn ; and her vis-a-vis at the Honorable Mrs. 
Carter- Walker’s ‘‘ sit-down tea ” — it was in the 
days when Mayfair was aping suburbia — ^put up 
his altogether unnecessary eyeglass. 

** Oh, that’s Angel Esquire ! ” he said carelessly. 

“ What is he? ” asked the Duchess. 

** A policeman.” 

“ India?” 

‘‘ Oh, no, Scotland Yard.” 

Good Heavens ! ” said Her Grace in a 
shocked voice. How very dreadful ! What is 
he doing? Watching the guests, or keeping a 
friendly eye on the Carter woman’s spoons? ” 

The young man guffawed. 

‘‘ Don’t despise old Angel, Duchess,’' he said. 


Angel Esquire 37 

He’s a man to know. Great fellow for putting 
things right. If you have a row with your gov- 
ernor, or get into the hands of — er — undesirables, 
or generally, if you’re in a mess of any kind, 
Angel’s the chap to pull you out.” 

Her Grace surveyed the admirable man with a 
new interest. 

Angel Esquire, with a cup of tea in one hand 
and a thin grass sandwich in the other, was the 
center of a group of men, including the husband 
of the hostess. He was talking with some ani- 
mation. 

‘‘ I held three aces pat, and opened the pot light 
to let ’em in. Young Saville raised the opening 
to a tenner, and the dealer went ten better. 
George Manfred, who had passed, came in for a 
pony, and took one card. I took two, and drew 
another ace. Saville took one, and the dealer 
stood pat. I thought it was my money, and bet 
a pony. Saville raised it to fifty, the dealer made 
it a hundred, and George Manfred doubled the 
bet. It was up to me. I had four aces; I put 


38 Angel Esquire 

Saville with a ' full/ and the dealer with a 
' flush/ I had the beating of that lot; but what 
about Manfred ? Manfred is a feller with all the 
sense going. He knew what the others had. If 
he bet, he had the goods, so I chucked my four 
aces into the discard. George had a straight 
flush.^’ 

A chorus of approval came from the group. 

If ‘‘An Offlcer of Twenty Years’ Standing” 
had been a listener, he might well have been fur- 
ther strengthened in his opinion that of all per- 
sons Mr. Angel was least fitted to fill the responsi- 
ble position he did. 

If the truth be told, nobody quite knew exactly 
what position Angel did hold. If you turn into 
New Scotland Yard and ask the janitor at the 
door for Mr. Christopher Angel — Angel Esquire 
by the way was a nickname affixed by a pert little 
girl — the constable, having satisfied himself as to 
your hona-Hdes, would take you up a flight of 
stairs and hand you over to yet another officer, 
who would conduct you through innumerable 


Angel Esquire 39 

swing doors, and along uncounted corridors till 
ke stopped before a portal inscribed 647.” 
Within, you would find Angel Esquire sitting at 
his desk, doing nothing, with the aid of a Sport- 
ing Life and a small weekly guide to the 
Turf. 

Once Mr. Commissioner himself walked into 
the room unannounced, and found Angel so im- 
mersed in an elaborate calculation, with big sheets 
of paper closely filled with figures, and open books 
on either hand, that he did not hear his visitor. 

‘‘What is the problem?” asked Mr. Commis- 
sioner, and Angel looked up with his sweetest 
smile, and recognizing his visitor, rose. 

“ What’s the problem ? ” asked Mr. Commis- 
sioner again. 

“ A serious flaw, sir,” said Angel, with all 
gravity. “ Here’s Mimosa handicapped at seven 
stone nine in the Friary Nursery, when, according 
to my calculations, she can give the field a stone, 
and beat any one of ’em.” 

The Commissioner gasped. 


40 Angel Esquire 

“ My dear fellow/' he expostulated, I thought 
you were working on the Lagos Bank business." 

Angel had a far-away look in his eyes when he 
answered — 

“ Oh, that is all finished. Old Carby was 
poisoned by a man named — forget his name now, 
but he was a Monrovian. I wired the Lagos 
police, and we caught the chap this morning at 
Liverpool — ^took him off an Elder, Dempster 
boat." 

The Police Commissioner beamed. 

My congratulations, Angel. By Jove, I 
thought we shouldn’t have a chance of helping 
the people in Africa. Is there a white man 
in it?" 

‘'We don’t know," said Angel absently; his 
eye was wandering up and down a column of 
figures on the paper before him. 

“ I am inclined to fancy there is — man named 
Connor, who used to be a croupier or something 
to old Reale.” 

He frowned at the paper, and picking up a 


Angel Esquire 41 

pencil from the desk, made a rapid little 
calculation. “ Seven stone thirteen,’’ he mut- 
tered. 

The Commissioner tapped the table impatiently. 
He had sunk into a seat opposite Angel. 

“ My dear man, who is old Reale ? You forget 
that you are our tame foreign specialist. Lord, 
Angel, if you heard half the horrid things that 
people say about your appointment you would die 
of shame ! ” 

Angel pushed aside the papers with a little 
laugh. 

“ I’m beyond shame,” he said lightheartedly; 
and, besides, I’ve heard. You were asking 
about Reale. Reale is a character. For twenty 
years proprietor of one of the most delightful 
gambling plants in Egypt, Rome — goodness 
knows where. Education — none. Hobbies — in- 
vention. That’s the ‘ bee in his bonnet ’ — inven- 
tion. If he’s got another, it is the common or 
garden puzzle. Pigs in clover, missing words, all 
the fake competitions that cheap little papers run 


42 Angel Esquire 

— ^he goes in for them all. Lives at 43 Terring- 
ton Square.’’ 

“ Where ? ” The Commissioner’s eyebrows 
rose. ‘‘ Reale? 43 Terrington Square? Why, of 
course.” He looked at Angel queerly. “ You 
know all about Reale ? ” 

Angel shrugged his shoulders. 

‘‘ As much as anybody knows,” he said. 

The Commissioner nodded. 

“ Well, take a cab and get down at once to 43 
Terrington Square. Your old Reale was mur- 
dered last night.” 

It was peculiar of Angel Esquire that nothing 
surprised him. He received the most tremendous 
tidings with polite interest, and now he merely 
said, “ Dear me ! ” Later, as a swift hansom 
carried him along Whitehall he permitted himself 
to be blessed.” 

Outside No. 43 Terrington Square a small 
crowd of morbid sightseers stood in gloomy an- 
ticipation of some gruesome experience or other. 
A policeman admitted him, and the local inspector 


Angel Esquire 43 

stopped in his interrogation of a white-faced but- 
ler to bid him a curt Good morning.’’ 

Angel’s preliminary inspection did not take any 
time. He saw the bodies, which had not yet been 
removed. He examined the pockets of both men, 
and ran his eye through the scattered papers on 
the floor of the room in which the tragedy had 
occurred. Then he came back to the big draw- 
ing-room and saw the inspector, who was sitting 
at a table writing his report. 

The chap on the top floor committed the mur- 
der, of course,” said Angel. 

‘‘ I know that,’’ said Inspector Boyden 
brusquely. 

'' And was electrocuted by a current passing 
through the handle of the safe.” 

‘‘ I gathered that,” the inspector replied as be- 
fore, and went on with his work. 

“ The murderer’s name is Massey,” continued 
Angel patiently — ‘‘ George Charles Massey.” 

The inspector turned in his seat with a sarcastic 
smile. 


44 Angel Esquire 

I also*' he said pointedly, ‘‘ have seen the 
envelopes addressed in that name, which were 
found in his pocket/' 

Angel’s face was preternaturally solemn as he 
continued — 

“ The third man I am not so sure about.” 

The inspector looked up suspiciously. 

‘‘ Third man — which third man? ” 

Well-simulated astonishment sent Angel’s eye- 
brows to the shape of inverted V’s. 

“ There was another man in it. Didn^t you 
know that, Mr. Inspector ? ” 

‘‘ I have found no evidence of the presence of 
a third party,” he said stiffly; “ but I have not yet 
concluded my investigations.” 

“ Good ! ” said Angel cheerfully. “ When you 
have, you will find the ends of three cigarettes — 
two in the room where the old man was killed, 
and one in the safe room. They are marked ‘ A1 
Kam,’ and are a fairly expensive variety of Egyp- 
tian cigarettes. Massey smoked cigars; old Reale 
did not smoke at all. The question is ” — ^he went 


Angel Esquire 45 

on speaking aloud to himself, and ignoring the 
perplexed police official — “ was it Connor or was 
it Jimmy? 

The inspector struggled with a desire to satisfy 
his curiosity at the expense of his dignity, and 
resolved to maintain an attitude of superior in- 
credulity. He turned back to his work. 

“ It would be jolly difficult to implicate either 
of them,” Angel went on reflectively, addressing 
the back of the inspector. They would produce 
fifty unimpeachable alibis, and bring an action 
for wrongful arrest in addition,” he added 
artfully. 

“ They can’t do that,” said the inspector gruffly. 

“Can’t they?” asked the innocent Angel. 
“ Well, at any rate, it’s not advisable to arrest 
them. Jimmy would ” 

Inspector Boyden swung round in his chair. 

“ I don’t know whether you’re ' pulling my 
leg,’ Mr. Angel. You are perhaps unused to the 
procedure in criminal cases in London, and I must 
now inform you that at present I am in charge of 


46 Angel Esquire 

the case, and must request that if you have any 
information bearing upon this crime to give it to 
me at once.” 

“ With all the pleasure in life,” said Angel 
heartily. In the first place, Jimmy ” 

“ Full name, please.” The inspector dipped 
his pen in ink. 

“ Haven’t the slightest idea,” said the other 
carelessly. “ Everybody knows Jimmy. He was 
old Reale’s most successful decoy duck. Had the 
presence and the plumage and looked alive, so 
that all the other little ducks used to come flying 
down and settle about him, and long before they 
could discover that the beautiful bird that at- 
tracted them was only painted wood and feathers, 
‘ Bang ! bang ! ’ went old Reale’s double-barrel, 
and roast duck was on the menu for days on 
end.” 

Inspector Boyden threw down his pen with a 
grunt. 

‘‘ I’m afraid,” he said in despair, ‘‘ that I can- 
not include your parable in my report. When 


Angel Esquire 47 

you have any definite information to give, I shall 
be pleased to receive it/’ 

Later, at Scotland Yard, Angel interviewed the 
Commissioner. 

What sort of a man is Boyden to work 
with ? ” asked Mr. Commissioner. 

“ A most excellent chap — good-natured, oblig- 
ing, and as zealous as the best of ’em,” said Angel, 
which was his way. 

‘‘ I shall leave him in charge of the case,” said 
the Chief. 

You couldn’t do better,” said Angel de- 
cisively. 

Then he went home to his flat in Jermyn Street 
to dress for dinner. 

It was an immaculate Angel Esquire who 
pushed through the plate-glass, turn-table door of 
the Heinz, and, walking into the magnificent old 
rose dining-room, selected a table near a window 
looking out on to Piccadilly. 

The other occupant of the table looked up and 
nodded. 


48 Angel Esquire 

‘‘ Hullo, Angel ! he said easily. 

‘‘Hullo, Jimmy!’’ greeted the unconventional 
detective. 

He took up the card and chose his dishes with 
elaborate care. A half-bottle of Beaujolais com- 
pleted his order. 

“ The ridiculous thing is that one has got to 
pay 7s. 6d. for a small bottle of wine that any 
respectable grocer will sell you for tenpence ha’- 
penny net.” 

“ You must pay for the magnificence,” said the 
other, quietly amused. Then, after the briefest 
pause, “ What do you want ? ” 

“ Not you, Jimmy,” said the amiable Angel, 
“ though my young friend, Boyden, Inspector of 
Police, and a Past Chief Templar to boot, will be 
looking for you shortly.” 

Jimmy carefully chose a toothpick and stripped 
it of its tissue covering. 

“ Of course,” he said quietly, “ I wasn’t in it — 
the killing, I mean. I was there.” 

“I know all about that,” said Angel; “ 


saw 


Angel Esquire 49 

your foolish cigarettes. I didn’t think you had 
any hand in the killing. You are a property 
criminal, not a personal criminal.” 

'' By which I gather you convey the nice dis- 
tinction as between crimes against property and 
crimes against the person,” said the other. 

Exactly.” 

A pause. 

Well?” said Jimmy. 

'' What I want to see you about is the verse,” 
said Angel, stirring his soup. 

Jimmy laughed aloud. 

‘‘ What a clever little devil you are, Angel,” he 
said admiringly ; “ and not so little either, in 
inches or devilishness.” 

He relapsed into silence, and the wrinkled fore- 
head was eloquent. 

‘‘ Think hard,” taunted Angel. 

‘‘ I’m thinking,” said Jimmy slowly. I used 
a pencil, as there was no blotting paper. I only 
made one copy, just as the old man dictated it, 
and ” 


50 Angel Esquire 

“You used a block,” said Angel obligingly, 
“ and only tore off the top sheet. And you 
pressed rather heavily on that, so that the next 
sheet bore a legible impression.” 

Jimmy looked annoyed. 

“ What an ass I am ! ” he said, and was again 
silent. 

“ The verse ? ” said Angel. “ Can you make 
head or tail of it? ” 

“ No ” — Jimmy shook his head — “ can 
you ? ” 

“ Not a blessed thing,” Angel frankly con- 
fessed. 

Through the next three courses neither man 
spoke. When coffee had been placed on the table, 
Jimmy broke the silence — 

“You need not worry about the verse. I have 
only stolen a march of a few days. Then Connor 
will have it; and some girl or other will have it. 
Massey would have had it too.” He smiled 
grimly. 

“ What is it all about ? ” 


Angel Esquire 5 1 

Jimmy looked at his questioner with some sus- 
picion. 

“ Don’t you know ? ” he demanded. 

Haven’t got the slightest notion. That is 
why I came to see you.” 

''Curious!” mused Jimmy. "I thought of 
looking you up for the very same purpose. We 
shall know in a day or two,” he went on, beckon- 
ing the waiter. " The old man said it was all in 
the will. He just told me the verse before he 
died. The ruling passion, don’t you know. 
' Learn it by heart, Jimmy,’ he croaked; ' it’s two 
millions for you if you guess it ’ — ^and that’s how 
he died. My bill, waiter. Which way do you 
go ? ” he asked as they turned into Piccadilly. 

"To the ' Plait ’ for an hour,” said Angel. 

" Business ? ” 

" Partly; I’m looking for a man who might be 
there.” 

They crossed Piccadilly, and entered a side 
turning. The second on the left and the first on 
the right brought them opposite a brightly-lit 


52 Angel Esquire 

hotel. From within came the sound of violins. 
At the little tables with which the spacious bar- 
room was set about sat laughing women and 
young men in evening dress. A haze of cigarette 
smoke clouded the atmosphere, and the music 
made itself heard above a babel of laughter and 
talk. They found a corner, and seated them- 
selves. 

You seem to be fairly well known here,” said 
Jimmy. 

Yes,” replied Angel ruefully, “ a jolly sight 
too well known. You’re not quite a stranger, 
Jimmy,” he added. 

“No,” said the other a little bitterly; “but 
we’re on different sides of the House, Angel. 
You’re in the Cabinet, and I’m in the everlasting 
Opposition.” 

“ Muffled sobs ! ” said Angel flippantly. “ Pity 
poor Ishmael who ' ishes ’ for his own pleasure ! 
Pathos for a fallen brother! A silent tear for 
this magnificent wreck who’d rather be on the 
rocks than floating any day of the week. Don’t 


Angel Esquire 53 

humbug yourself, Jimmy, or I shall be falling on 
your neck and appealing to your better nature. 
You're a thief just as another man is a stamp col- 
lector or a hunter. It’s your blooming forte. 
Hi, Charles, do you ever intend serving me ? ” 

“ Yessir; d’reckly, sir.” 

Charles bustled up. 

“ What is it to be, gentlemen ? Good evening, 
Mr. Angel!” 

** I’ll take what my friend Dooley calls a keg of 
obscenth; and you?” 

Jimmy’s face struggled to preserve its gravity. 

“ Lemonade,” he said soberly. 

The waiter brought him a whisky. 

If you do not know the ‘‘ Plait ” you do not 
know your London. It is one of the queer hos- 
tels which in a Continental city would be noted as 
a place to which the “ young person ” might not 
be taken. Being in London, neither Baedeker 
nor any of the infallible guides to the metropolis 
so much as mention its name. For there is a law 
of libel. 


54 Angel Esquire 

“ There's ‘ Snatch ' Walker," said Angel idly. 
“ Snatch isn’t wanted just now — in this coun- 
try. There’s ‘ Frisco Kate,’ who’ll get a lifer one 
of these days. D’ye know the boy in the mustard 
suit, Jimmy?’’ 

Jimmy took a sidelong glance at the young 
man. 

No; he’s new.’’ 

‘‘ Not so new either,’’ said Angel. ‘‘ Buda- 
pest in the racing season, Jerusalem in the tour- 
ist season; a wealthy Hungarian nobleman 
traveling for his health all the time — ^that’s 
him.’’ 

“ Ambiguous, ungrammatical, but convincing,’’ 
murmured Jimmy. 

“ I want him, by the way! ’’ Angel had sud- 
denly become alert. 

“If you’re going to have a row. I’m off,’’ said 
Jimmy, finishing his drink. 

Angel caught his arm. A man had entered the 
saloon, and was looking round as though in search 
of somebody. He caught Jimmy’s eye and 


Angel Esquire 55 

started. Then he threaded his way through the 
crowded room. 

Hullo, Jim ” He stopped dead as he saw 

Jimmy’s companion, and his hand went into his 
pocket. 

“ Hullo, Connor ! ” — ^Angel’s smile was par- 
ticularly disarming — “ you’re the man I want to 
see.” 

‘‘ What’s the game ? ” the other snarled. He 
was a big, heavily-built man, with a drooping 
mustache. 

Nothing, nothing,” smiled Angel. “ I want 
you for the Lagos job, but there’s not enough 
evidence to convict you. Make your mind easy.” 

The man went white under his tan; his hand 
caught the edge of the table before him. 

Lagos ! ” he stammered. “ What — what ” 

‘^Oh, never mind about that.” Angel airily 
waved the matter aside. ‘‘ Sit down here.” 

The man hesitated, then obeyed, and dropped 
into a seat between the two. 

Angel looked round. So far as any danger of 


56 Angel Esquire 

being overheard went, they were as much alone 
as though they sat in the center of a desert. 

‘‘ Jimmy ” — ^Angel held him by the arm — “ you 
said just now youM got a march when you ad- 
mitted you’d seen old Reale’s puzzle verse. It 
wasn’t the march you thought it was, for I had 
seen the will — and so has Connor here.” 

He looked the heavy man straight in the eye. 

“ There is somebody else that benefits under 
that will besides you two. It is a girl.” He did 
not take his eyes from Connor. “ I was curious 
to see that young lady,” Angel went on, ‘‘ and 
this afternoon I drove to Clapham to interview 
her.” 

He stopped again. Connor made no reply, but 
kept his eyes fixed on the floor. 

I went to interview her, and found that she 
had mysteriously disappeared this very after- 
noon.” 

Again he stopped. 

“ A gentleman called to see her, with a message 
from — who do you think, Connor ? ” he asked. 


Angel Esquire 57 

The easy, flippant manner was gone, and Con- 
nor, looking up, caught the steady stare of two 
cold blue eyes, and shivered. 

‘‘ Why,’' Angel went on slowly, “ it was a mes- 
sage from Inspector Angel — which is a damned 
piece of impudence, Connor, for Tm not an in- 
spector — and the young lady drove away to Scot- 
land Yard. And now, Connor, I want to ask 
you, What have you done with old Reale's 
heiress? " 

Connor licked his lips and said nothing. 

Angel beckoned to a waiter and paid his score, 
then rose to go. 

“ You will go at once and drive Miss Kath- 
leen Kent back to the place you took her 
from. I shall call to-morrow and see her, 
and if one hair of her head is harmed, 
Connor ” 

‘‘ Well ? ” said Connor defiantly. 

“ ril chance your alibis, and take you for the 
Lagos business,” and with a curt nod to Jimmy, 
he left the saloon. 


58 Angel Esquire 

Connor turned in a fret of fury to the man at 
his side. 

“ D’ye hear him, Jimmy ? D’ye hear the 
dog ” 

“ My advice to you,” interrupted the other, “ is 
— do as Angel tells you.” 

D’ye think I’m frightened by ” 

“ Oh, no,” was the quiet response, you are 
not frightened at what Angel may do. What he 
does won’t matter very much. What I will do is 
the trouble.” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE ‘‘ BOROUGH LOT ” 

It was not a bit like Scotland Yard as Kathleen 
Kent had pictured it. It was a kind of a yard 
certainly, for the grimy little street, flanked on 
either side with the blank faces of dirty little 
houses, ended abruptly in a high wall, over which 
were the gray hulls and fat scarlet funnels of 
ocean-going steamers. 

The driver of the cab had pulled up before one 
of the houses near the wall, and a door had 
opened. Then the man who had sat with her in 
glum silence, answering her questions in mono- 
syllables, grasped her arm and hurried her into 
the house. The door slammed behind, and she 
realized her deadly peril. She had had a fore- 
boding, an instinctive premonition that all was not 
well when the cab had turned from the broad 
thoroughfare that led to where she had 
59 


6o Angel Esquire 

imagined Scotland Yard would be, and had, tak- 
ing short cuts through innumerable mean streets, 
moved at a sharp pace eastward. Ignorant of 
that London which begins at Trafalgar Square 
and runs eastward to Walthamstow, ignorant, in- 
deed, of that practical suburb to which the mod- 
esty of an income produced by £4,000 worth of 
Consols had relegated her, she felt without know- 
ing, that Scotland Yard did not lay at the eastern 
end of Commercial Road. 

Then when the door of the little house slammed 
and a hand grasped her arm tightly, and a thick 
voice whispered in her ear that if she screamed 
the owner of the voice would “ out her, she 
gathered, without exactly knowing what an out- 
ing was, that it would be wiser for her not to 
scream, so she quietly accompanied her captor up 
the stairs. He stopped for a moment on the 
rickety landing, then pushed open a door. 

Before the window that would in the ordinary 
course of events admit the light of day hung a 
heavy green curtain; behind this, though she did 


The ‘‘Borough Lot’’ oi 

not know it, three army blankets, judiciously 
fixed, effectively excluded the sunlight, and as 
effectually veiled the rays of a swing-lamp from 
outside observation. 

The girl made a pathetically incongruous fig- 
ure, as she stood white but resolute before the 
occupants of the room. 

Kathleen Kent was something more than 
pretty, something less than beautiful. An oval 
face with gray, steadfast eyes, a straight nose and 
the narrow upper lip of the aristocrat, her lips 
were, perhaps, too full and too human for your 
connoisseur of beauty. 

She looked from face to face, and but for her 
pallor she exhibited no sign of fear. 

Although she was unaware of the fact, she had 
been afforded an extraordinary privilege. By the 
merest accident, she had been ushered into the 
presence of the Borough Lot.'' Not a very 
heroic title for an organized band of criminals, 
but, then, organized criminals never take unto 
themselves generic and high- faintin' titles. Our 


62 Angel Esquire 

Silver Hatchets ” and ‘‘ Red Knives are boy 
hooligans who shoot off toy pistols. Th A police 
referred to them vaguely as the Borough \Lot.” 
Lesser lights in the criminal world have ^ been 
known to boast that they were not unconnected 
with that combination; and when some desp^ate 
piece of villainy startled the world, the police 
vestigating the crime started from this point: 
Was it committed by one of the Borough Lot, or 
was it not ? 

As Kathleen was pushed into the room by her 
captor, a hum of subdued conversation ended 
abruptly, and she was the focus of nine pairs of 
passionless eyes that looked at her unsmilingly. 

When she had heard the voices, when she took 
her first swift glance at the room, and had seen 
the type of face that met hers, she had steeled 
herself for an outburst of coarse amusement. She 
feared — she did not know what she feared. 
Strangely enough, the dead silence that greeted 
her gave her courage, the cold stare of the men 
nerved her. Only one of the men lost his com- 


The “Borough Lot” 63 

posure. The tall, heavy-looking man who sat 
at one end of the room with bowed, attentive head 
listening to a little clean-shaven man with side- 
whiskers, who looked for all the world like an 
old-fashioned jockey, started with a muttered 
oath. 

“ Upstairs ! ’’ he roared, and said something 
rapidly in a foreign tongue that sent the man who 
held the girl’s arm staggering back with a 
blanched face. 

“ I — I,” he stammered appealingly, “ I didn’t 
understand.” 

The tall man, his face flushed with rage, 
pointed to the door, and hastily opening the door, 
her captor half dragged the bewildered girl to the 
darkness of the landing. 

‘‘ This way,” he muttered, and she could feel 
his hand trembling as he stumbled up yet another 
flight of stairs, never once relinquishing his hold 
of her. Don’t you scream nor nothing, or you’ll 
get into trouble. You see what happened to me 
for takin’ you into the wrong room. Oh, he’s a 


64 Angel Esquire 

devil is Connor — Smith, I mean. Smithes his 
name, d’ye hear? ” He shook her arm roughly. 
Evidently the man was beside himself with terror. 
What dreadful thing the tall man had said, Kath- 
leen could only judge. She herself was half dead 
with fright. The sinister faces of these men, the 
mystery of this assembly in the shuttered room, 
her abduction, all combined to add terror to her 
position. 

Her conductor unlocked a door and pushed her 
in. This had evidently been prepared for her re- 
ception, for a table had been laid, and food and 
drink stood ready. 

The door was closed behind her, and a bolt was 
slipped. Like the chamber below, all daylight 
was kept out by a curtain. Her first thoughts 
were of escape. She waited till the footsteps on 
the rickety stairs had died away, then crossed the 
room swiftly. The drop from the window could 
not be very far; she would risk it. She drew 
aside the curtain. Where the window should 
have been was a sheet of steel plate. It was 


The “Borough Lot” 65 

screwed to the joists. Somebody had anticipated 
her resolve to escape by the window. In chalk, 
written in an illiterate hand, was the sentence : — 

You wont be hert if your senserble. 

We want to know some questions 
then well let you go. Dont make 
a fuss or it will be bad for you. 

Keep quite and tell us these questions 
and well let you go/* 

What had they to ask, or she to answer ? She 
knew of nothing that she could inform them upon. 
Who were these men who were detaining her? 
During the next hours she asked herself these 
questions over and over again. She grew faint 
with hunger and thirst, but the viands spread 
upon the table she did not touch. The mystery 
of her capture bewildered her. Of what value 
was she to these men ? All the time the murmur 
of voices in the room below was continuous. 
Once or twice she heard a voice raised in anger. 
Once a door slammed, and somebody went clat- 


66 Angel Esquire 

tering down the stairs. There was a door- 
keeper, she could hear him speak with the 
outgoer. 

Did she but know it, the question that perplexed 
her was an equal matter of perplexity with others 
in the house that evening. 

The notorious men upon whom she had looked, 
all innocent of their claim to notoriety, were them- 
selves puzzled. 

Bat Sands, the man who looked so ill — ^he had 
the unhealthy appearance of one who had just 
come through a long sickness — ^was an inquirer. 
Vennis — nobody knew his Christian name — was 
another, and they were two men whose inquiries 
were not to be put off. 

Vennis turned his dull fish eyes upon big Con- 
nor, and spoke with deliberation. 

Connor, what’s this girl business ? Are we 
in it?” 

Connor knew his men too well to temporize. 

“ You’re in it, if it’s worth anything,” he said 
slowly. 


The ‘‘Borough Lot” 67 

Bat’s close-cropped red head was thrust for- 
ward. 

“ Is there money in it ? ” he demanded. 

Connor nodded his head. 

Much?” 

Connor drew a deep breath. If the truth be 
told, that the Lot ” should share, was the last 
thing he had intended. But for the blundering 
of his agent, they would have remained in igno- 
rance of the girl’s presence in the house. But the 
very suspicion of disloyalty was dangerous. He 
knew his men, and they knew him. There was 
not a man there who would hesitate to destroy 
him at the merest hint of treachery. Candor was 
the best and safest course. 

“ It’s pretty hard to give you any idea what I’ve 
got the girl here for, but there’s a million in it,” 
he began. 

He knew they believed him. He did not ex- 
pect t6 be disbelieved. Criminals of the class 
these men represented flew high. They were out 
of the ruck of petty, boasting sneak-thieves who 


68 Angel Esquire 

lied to one another, knowing they lied, and know- 
ing that their hearers knew they lied. 

Only the strained, intent look on their faces 
gave any indication of how the news had been 
received. 

It’s old Reale’s money,” he continued; “ he’s 
left the lot to four of us. Massey’s dead, so that 
makes three.” 

There was no need to explain who was Reale, 
who Massey. A week ago Massey had himself 
sat in that room and discussed with Connor the 
cryptic verse that played so strange a part in the 
old man’s will. He had been, in a way, an hon- 
orary member of the Borough Lot.” 

Connor continued. He spoke slowly, waiting 
for inspiration. A judicious lie might save the 
situation. But no inspiration came, and he found 
his reluctant tongue speaking the truth. 

The money is stored in one safe. Oh, it’s no 
use looking like that, Tony, you might just as 
well try to crack the Bank of England as that 
crib. Yes, he converted every cent of a million 


The “Borough Lot” 69 

and three-quarters into hard, solid cash — bank- 
notes and gold. This he put into his damned 
safe, and locked. And he has left by the terms 
of his will a key.’’ 

Connor was a man who did not find speaking 
an easy matter. Every word came slowly and 
hesitatingly, as though the speaker of the story 
were loth to part with it. 

“ The key is here,” he said slowly. 

There was a rustle of eager anticipation as he 
dipped his hand in his waistcoat pocket. When 
he withdrew his fingers, they contained only a slip 
of paper carefully folded. 

The lock of the safe is one of Reale’s inven- 
tions; it opens to no key save this.” He 
shook the paper before them, then lapsed into 
silence. 

“ Well,” broke in Bat impatiently, why don’t 
you open the s?ife ? And what has the girl to do 
with it ? ” 

‘‘ She also has a key, or will have to-morrow. 
And Jimmy ” 


70 Angel Esquire 

A laugh interrupted him. Curt ’’ Goyle had 
been an attentive listener till Jimmy’s name was 
mentioned, then his harsh, mirthless laugh broke 
the tense silence. 

“ Oh, Lord James is in it, is he ? I’m one that’s 
for ruling Jimmy out.” He got up on his feet 
and stretched himself, keeping his eye fixed on 
Connor. “If you want to know why. I’ll tell ye. 
Jimmy’s a bit too finicking for my taste, too fond 
of the police for my taste. If we’re in this, 
Jimmy’s out of it,” and a mutter of approval 
broke from the men. 

Connor’s mind was working quickly. He could 
do without Jimmy, he could not dispense with the 
help of the “ Lot.” He was just a little afraid 
of Jimmy. The man was a type of criminal he 
could not understand. If he was a rival claimant 
for Reale’s millions, the gang would “ out” 
Jimmy; so much the better. Massey’s removal 
had limited the legatees to three. Jimmy out of 
the way would narrow the chance of his losing 
the money still further; and the other legatee was 


The ^‘Borough Lot’" 71 

in the room upstairs. Goyle’s declaration had 
set loose the tongues of the men, and could 
hear no voice that spoke for Jimmy. And then 
a dozen voices demanded the rest of the stor>% 
and amid a dead silence Connor told the story of 
the will and the puzzle-verse, the solving of which 
meant fortune to every man. 

And the girl has got to stand in and take her 
share. She’s too dangerous to be let loose. 
There’s nigh on two millions at stake and I’m 
taking no risks. She shall remain here till the 
word is found. We’re not going to see her carry 
off the money under our very noses.” 

And Jimmy? ” Goyle asked. 

Connor fingered a lapel of his coat nervously. 
He knew what answer the gang had already 
framed to the question Goyle put. He knew he 
would be asked to acquiesce in the blackest piece 
of treachery that had ever disfigured his evil life; 
but he knew, too, that Jimmy was hated by the 
men who formed this strange fraternity. Jimmy 
worked alone; he shared neither risk nor reward. 


72 Angel Esquire 

His cold (,ynicism was above their heads. They 
too fepvTed him. 

Connor cleared his throat. 

“ Perhaps if we reasoned ” 

Goyle and Bat exchanged swift glances. 

Ask him to come and talk it over to-night/^ 
said Goyle carelessly. 

Connor is a long time gone.” 

Sands turned his unhealthy face to the com- 
pany as he spoke. 

Three hours had passed since Connor had left 
the gang in his search for Jimmy. 

“ He’ll be back soon,” said Goyle confidently. 
He looked over the assembly of men. “ Any of 
you fellers who don’t want to be in this business 
can go.” Then he added significantly, ** We’re 
going to settle with Jimmy.” 

Nobody moved; no man shuddered at the 
dreadful suggestion his words conveyed. 

“ A million an’ three-quarters — ^it’s worth 
hanging for ! ” he said callously. He walked to 


The ‘‘Borough Lot” 73 

a tall, narrow cupboard that ran up by the side of 
the fireplace and pulled open the door. There 
was room for a man to stand inside. The scru- 
tiny of the interior gave him some satisfaction. 

“ This is where some one stood — he looked 
meaningly at Bat Sands — “ when he koshed Ike 
Steen — Ike with the police money in his 
pocket, and ready to sell every man jack of 
you.” 

“Who’s in the next house?” a voice asked 
suddenly. 

Goyle laughed. He was the virtual landlord so 
far as the hiring of the house was concerned. He 
closed the cupboard door. 

“ Not counting old George, it’s empty,” he 
said. “Listen!” 

In the deep silence there came the faint murmur 
of a voice through the thin walls. 

“Talkin’ to himself,” said Goyle with a grin; 
“ he’s daft, and he’s as good as a watchman for 
us, for he scares away the children and women 
who would come prying about here. He’s ” 


74 Angel Esquire 

They heard the front door shut quickly and 
the voices of two men in the passage below. 

Goyle sprang to his feet, an evil look on his 
face. 

“ That’s Jimmy ! ” he whispered hurriedly. 

As the feet sounded on the stairs he walked to 
where his coat hung and took something from his 
pocket, then, almost as the newcomers entered the 
room, he slipped into the cupboard and drew the 
door close after him. 

Jimmy, entering the room in Connor’s wake, 
felt the chill of his reception. He felt, too, some 
indefinable sensation of danger. There was an 
ominous quiet. Bat Sands was polite, even ser- 
vile. Jimmy noticed that, and his every sense 
became alert. Bat thrust forward a chair 
and placed it with its back toward the cup- 
board. 

‘‘ Sit down, Jimmy,” he said with forced heart- 
iness. ‘‘We want a bit of a talk.” 

Jimmy sat down. 

“ I also want a bit of a talk,” he said calmly. 


The “Borough Lot'’ 


75 


‘‘ There is a young lady in this house, brought 
here against her will. You’ve got to let her 
go.” 

The angry mutter of protest that he had ex- 
pected did not come, rather was his dictum re- 
ceived in complete silence. This was bad, and 
he looked round for the danger. Then he missed 
a face. 

Where is our friend Goyle, our dear land- 
lord?” he asked with pleasant irony. 

He hasn’t been here to-day,” Bat hastened to 

say. 

Jimmy looked at Connor standing by the door 
biting his nails, and Connor avoided his eye. 

‘‘ Ah ! ” Jimmy’s unconcern was perfectly 
simulated. 

'' Jimmy wants us to send the girl back.” Con- 
nor was speaking hurriedly. He thinks there’ll 
be trouble, and his friend the ’tec thinks there 
will be trouble too.” 

Jimmy heard the art fully- worded indictment 
unmoved. Again he noticed, with some concern. 


76 Angel Esquire 

that what was tantamount to a charge of treach- 
ery was received without a word. 

“ It isn’t what others think, it is what I think, 
Connor,” he said dryly. ‘‘ The girl has got to go 
back. I want Reale’s money as much as you, but 
I have a fancy to play fair this journey.” 

“Oh, you have, have you,” sneered Connor. 
He had seen the cupboard door behind Jimmy 
move ever so slightly. 

Jimmy sat with his legs crossed on the chair 
that had been placed for him. The light over- 
coat he had worn over his evening dress lay across 
his knees. Connor knew the moment was at 
hand, and concentrated his efforts to keep his 
former comrade’s attentions engaged. He had 
guessed the meaning of Goyle’s absence from the 
room and the moving cupboard door. In his 
present position Jimmy was helpless. 

Connor had been nervous to a point of incoher- 
ence on the way to the house. Now his voice 
rose to a strident pitch. 

“ You’re too clever, Jimmy,” he said, “ and 


The “Borough Lot” 77 

there are too many ‘ musts ’ about you to please 
us. We say that the girl has got to stay, and by 
we mean it ! ” 

Jimmy’s wits were at work. The danger was 
very close at hand, he felt that. He must change 
his tactics. He had depended too implicitly upon 
Connor’s fear of him, and had reckoned without 
the Borough Lot.” From which of these men 
did danger threaten? He took their faces in in 
one comprehensive glance. He knew them — ^he 
had their black histories at his finger-tips. Then 
he saw a coat hanging on the wall at the farther 
end of the room. He recognized the garment in- 
stantly. It was Goyle’s. Where was the owner ? 
He temporized. 

“ I haven’t the slightest desire to upset any- 
body’s plans,” he drawled, and started drawing 
on a white glove, as though about to depart. I 
am willing to hear your views, but I would point 
out that I have an equal interest in the young 
lady, Connor.” 

He gazed reflectively into the palm of his 


78 Angel Esquire 

gloved hand as if admiring the fit. There was 
something so peculiar in this apparently innocent 
action, that Connor started forward with an 
oath. 

'' Quick, Goyle!’’ he shouted; but Jimmy was 
out of his chair and was standing with his back 
against the cupboard, and in Jimmy’s ungloved 
hand was an ugly black weapon that was all butt 
and barrel. 

He waved them back, and they shrank away 
from him. 

" Let me see you all,” he commanded, " none 
of your getting behind one another. I want to 
see what you are doing. Get away from that 
coat of yours. Bat, or I’ll put a bullet in your 
stomach.” 

He had braced himself against the door in an- 
ticipation of the thrust of the man, but it seemed 
as though the prisoner inside had accepted the 
situation, for he made no sign. 

" So you are all wondering how I knew about 
the cupboard,” he jeered. He held up the gloved 


The Borough Lot*" 79 

hand, and in the palm something flashed back the 
light of the lamp. 

Connor knew. The tiny mirror sewn in the 
palm of the sharper’s glove was recognized equip- 
ment. 

“ Now, gentlemen,” said Jimmy with a mock- 
ing laugh, “ I must insist on having my way. 
Connor, you will please bring to me the lady you 
abducted this afternoon.” 

Connor hesitated; then he intercepted a glance 
from Bat Sands, and sullenly withdrew from the 
room. 

Jimmy did not speak till Connor had returned 
ushering in the white-faced girl. He saw that 
she looked faint and ill, and motioned one of the 
men to place a chair for her. What she saw 
amidst that forbidding group was a young man 
with a little Vandyke beard, who looked at her 
with grave, thoughtful eyes. He was a gentle- 
man, she could see that, and her heart leapt 
within her as she realized that the presence of 
this man in the fashionably-cut clothes and the 


8o Angel Esquire 

most unfashionable pistol meant deliverance from 
this horrible place. 

‘‘ Miss Kent,” he said kindly. 

She nodded, she could not trust herself to 
speak. The experience of the past few hours 
had almost reduced her to a state of collapse. 

Jimmy saw the girl was on the verge of a 
breakdown. 

‘‘ I am going to take you home,” he said, and 
added whimsically, and cannot but feel that you 
have underrated your opportunities. Not often 
will you see gathered together so splendid a col- 
lection of our profession.” He waved his hand 
in introduction. “ Bat Sands, Miss Kent, a most 
lowly thief, possibly worse. George Collroy, 
coiner and a ferocious villain. Vennis, who fol- 
lows the lowest of all grades of dishonest liveli- 
hood — ^blackmailer. Here,” Jimmy went on, as 
he stepped aside from the cupboard, “ is the gem 
of the collection. I will show you our friend who 
has so coyly effaced himself.” He addressed the 
occupant of the cupboard. 


The ‘‘Borough Lot” 8i 

“ Come out, Goyle,'’ he said sharply. 

There was no response. 

Jimmy pointed to one of the ruffians in the 
room. 

‘‘ Open that door,’' he commanded. 

The man slunk forward and pulled the door 
open. 

Come out, Goyle,” he growled, then stepped 
back with blank astonishment stamped upon his 
face. Why — why,” he gasped, there’s no- 
body there ! ” 

With a cry, Jimmy started forward. One 
glance convinced him that the man spoke the 
truth, and then 

There were keen wits in that crowd — men used 
to crises and quick to act. Bat Sands saw 
Jimmy’s attention diverted for a moment, and 
Jimmy’s pistol hand momentarily lowered. To 
think with Bat Sands was to act. Jimmy, 
turning back upon the ‘‘Lot,” saw the life 
preserver descending, and leapt on one side; 
then, as he recovered, somebody threw 


82 Angel Esquire 

a coat at the lamp, and the room was in 
darkness. 

Jimmy reached out his hand and caught the girl 
by the arm. Into that cupboard,’’ he whis- 
pered, pushing her into the recess from which 
Goyle had so mysteriously vanished. Then, with 
one hand on the edge of the door, he groped 
around with his pistol for his assailants. He 
could hear their breathing and the creak of the 
floor-boards as they came toward him. He 
crouched down by the door, judging that the 

kosh ” would be aimed in a line with his head. 
By and by he heard the swish of the descending 
stick, and “ crash ! ” the preserver struck the wall 
above him. 

He was confronted with a difficulty; to fire 
would be to invite trouble. He had no desire to 
attract the attention of the police for many rea- 
sons. Unless the life of the girl was in danger he 
resolved to hold his fire, and when Ike Josephs, 
feeling cautiously forward with his stick,' blun- 
dered into Jimmy, Ike suddenly dropped to the 


The ‘‘Borough Lot” 83 

floor without a cry, because he had been hit a 
fairly vicious blow in that portion of the 
anatomy which is dignified with the title ‘‘ solar 
plexus.” 

It was just after this that he heard a startled 
little cry from the girl behind him, and then a 
voice that sent his heart into his mouth. 

‘‘All right! All right! All right!” 

There was only one man who used that tag, and 
Jimmy’s heart rose up to bless his name in thank- 
fulness. 

“ This way, Miss Kent,” said the voice, “ mind 
the little step. Don’t be afraid of the gentleman 
on the floor, he’s handcuffed and strapped and 
gagged, and is perfectly harmless.” 

Jimmy chuckled. The mystery of Angel’s in- 
timate knowledge of the “ Lot’s ” plans and of 
Connor’s movements, the disappearance of Goyle, 
were all explained. He did not know for certain 
that the occupant of the “ empty ” house next 
door had industriously cut through the thin party- 
walls that separated the two houses, and had 


84 Angel Esquire 

rigged up a back ” to the cupboard that was 
really a door, but he guessed it. 

Then a blinding ray of light shot into the room 
where the “ Borough Lot ” still groped for its 
enemy, and a gentle voice said — 

Gentlemen, you may make your choice which 
way you go — out by the front door, where my 
friend, Inspector Colly er, with quite a large num- 
ber of men, is waiting; or by the back door, where 
Sergeant Murtle and exactly seven plain-clothes 
men are impatiently expecting you.’* 

Bat recognized the voice. 

“ Angel Esquire ! ” he cried in consternation. 

From the darkness behind the dazzling electric 
lamp that threw a narrow lane of light into the 
apartment came an amused chuckle. 

What is it,” asked Angel’s persuasive voice, 
‘‘a cop?” 

“ It’s a fair cop,” said Bat truthfully. 


CHAPTER V 


THE CRYPTOGRAM 

Mr. Spedding looked at his watch. He stood 
upon the marble-tiled floor of the Great Deposit. 
High above his head, suspended from the beauti- 
ful dome, blazed a hundred lights from an ornate 
electrolier. He paced before the great pedestal 
that towered up from the center of the building, 
and the floor was criss-crossed with the shadows 
of the steel framework that encased it. But for 
the dozen chairs that were placed in a semicircle 
before the great granite base, the big hall was 
bare and unfurnished. 

Mr. Spedding walked up and down, and his 
footsteps rang hollow; when he spoke the misty 
space of the building caught up his voice and sent 
down droning echoes. 

“There is only the lady to come,” he said, 

looking at his watch again. 

85 


86 Angel Esquire 

He spoke to the two men who sat at either ex- 
treme of the crescent of chairs. The one was 
Jimmy, a brooding, thoughtful figure; the other 
was Connor, ill at ease and subdued. Behind the 
chairs, at some distance, stood two men who 
looked like artisans, as indeed they were : at their 
feet lay a bag of tools, and on a small board a 
heap that looked like sand. At the door a stolid- 
looking commissionaire waited, his breast glitter- 
ing with medals. 

Footsteps sounded in the vestibule, the rustle 
of a woman’s dress, and Kathleen Kent entered, 
closely followed by Angel Esquire. At him the 
law3^er looked questioningly as he walked for- 
ward to greet the girl. 

“ Mr. Angel has kindly offered me his help,” 
she said timidly — ^then, recognizing Connor, 
her face flushed — ‘‘ and if necessary, his pro- 
tection.” 

Mr. Spedding bowed. 

“ I hope you will not find this part of the cer- 
emony trying,” he said in a low voice, and led the 


The Cryptogram 87 

girl to a chair. Then he made a signal to the 
commissionaire. 

“What is going to happen?’’ Kathleen whis- 
pered to her companion, and Angel shook his 
head. 

“ I can only guess,” he replied in the same tone. 

He was looking up at the great safe wherein 
he knew was stored the wealth of the dead gam- 
bler, and wondering at the freakish ingenuity that 
planned and foresaw this strange scene. The 
creak of footsteps in the doorway made him turn 
his head. He saw a white-robed figure, and be- 
hind him a black-coated man in attendance, h'old- 
ing on a cushion a golden casket. Then the 
dread, familiar words brought him to his feet 
with a shiver : — 

“ I am the resurrection and the life, saith the 
Lord; he that believeth in me, though he were 
dead, yet shall he live : and whosoever liveth and 
believeth in me shall never die.” 

The clergyman’s solemn voice resounded 
through the building, and the detective realized 


88 Angel Esquire 

that the ashes of the dead man were coming to 
their last abiding-place. The slow procession 
moved toward the silent party. Slowly it paced 
toward the column; then, as the clergyman’s feet 
rang on the steel stairway that wound upward, he 
began the Psalm which of all others perhaps most 
fitted the passing of old Reale : — 

Have mercy upon me, O God, after Thy great 
goodness. . . . Wash me throughly from my 
wickedness: and cleanse me from my sin. . . . 
Behold, I was shapen in wickedness. . . . De- 
liver me from bloodguiltiness, O God ...” 

Half-way up the column a small gap yawned in 
the unbroken granite face, and into this the golden 
cabinet was pushed; then the workman, who had 
formed one of the little party that wound up- 
ward, lifted a smooth cube of polished granite. 

Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God 
of His great mercy to take unto Himself the soul 
of our dear brother here departed ...” 

The mason’s trowel grated on the edges of the 
cavity, the block of stone was thrust in until it 


The Cryptogram 89 

was flush with the surface of the pedestal. Carved 
on the end of the stone were four words : — 

Pulvis 

Cinis 

et 

Nihil. 

It was when the workmen had been dismissed, 
and the lawyer was at the door bidding adieu to 
the priest whose strange duty had been performed, 
that Angel crossed to where Jimmy sat. 

He caught Jimmy's grim smile, and raised his 
eyes to where all that was mortal of Reale had 
been placed. 

“ The Latin ? ” asked Angel. 

“ Surprising, isn't it ? " said the other quietly. 
“ Reale had seen things, you know. A man who 
travels picks up information." He nodded to- 
ward the epitaph. “ He got that idea at Toledo, 
in the cathedral there. Do you know it ? A slab 
of brass over a dead king-maker, Portocarrero, 
‘ Hie jacet pulvis cinis et nihil.' I translated it 


90 Angel Esquire 

for him; the conceit pleased him. Sitting here, 
watching his strange funeral, I wondered if ‘ pul- 
vis cinis et nihil * would come into it.’’ 

And now Spedding came creaking back. The 
workmen had disappeared, the outer door was 
closed, and the commissionaire had retired to his 
room leading from the vestibule. In Spedding’ s 
hand was a bundle of papers. He took his place 
with his back to the granite pedestal and lost no ; 

I 

time in preliminaries. | 

I have here the will of the late James Ryan 1 
Reale,” he began. “ The contents of this will | 
are known to every person here except Miss I 
Kent.” He had a dry humor of his own, this 
lawyer, as his next words proved. “ A week ago i 
a very clever burglary was committed in my 
office: the safe was opened, a private dispatch | 
box forced, and my papers ransacked. I must i 
do my visitor justice ” — ^he bowed slightly, first [ 
in the direction of Connor, then toward Jimmy — | 
“ and say that nothing was taken and practically I 
nothing disturbed. There was plenty of evidence 


The Cryptogram 9 1 

that the object of the burglary was to secure a 
sight of this will.’’ 

-Jimmy was unperturbed at the scarcely- veiled 
charge, and if he moved it was only with the ob- 
ject of taking up an easier position in the chair. 
Not even the shocked eyes of the girl that looked 
appealingly toward him caused him any apparent 
uneasiness. 

“ Go on,” he said, as the lawyer paused as 
though waiting for an admission. He was 
quietly amused. He knew very well now who 
this considerate burglar was. 

‘‘ By copying this will the burglar or burglars 
obtained an unfair advantage over the other 
legatee or legatees.” 

The stiff paper crackled noisily as he unfolded 
the document in his hand. 

‘‘ I will formally read the will and afterwards 
explain it to such of you as need the explanation,” 
Spedding resumed. 

The girl listened as the lawyer began to read. 
Confused by the legal terminology, the endless 


92 Angel Esquire 

repetitions, and the chaotic verbiage of the instru- 
ment, she yet realized as the reading went on that 
this last will and testament of old Reale was 
something extraordinary. There was mention of 
houses and estates, freeholds and bonds . . . 

. and all the residue of any property what- 
soever and wheresoever absolutely ” that went to 
somebody. To whom she could not gather. Once 
she thought it was to herself, “ to Francis Cory- 
don Kent, Esquire, or the heirs of his body; 
once it sounded as though this huge fortune was 
to be inherited by “ James Cavendish Fairfax | 
Stannard, Baronet of the United Kingdom.’' She [ 
wondered if this was Jimmy, and remembered in ; 
a vague way that she had heard that the ninth j 
baronet of that name was a person of question- 
able character. Then again it seemed as if the j 
legatee was to be Patrick George Connor.” i 
There was a doggerel verse in the will that the [ 
lawyer gabbled through, and something about the 
great safe, then the lawyer came to an end. In 
the conventional declaration of the witnesses lay 


The Cryptogram 93 

a sting that sent a dull red flush to Connor’s cheek 
and again provoked Jimmy’s grim smile. 

The lawyer read : — 

“ Signed by the above James Ryan Reale as his 
last will and testament (the word ‘ thief ’ after 
‘ James Cavendish Fairfax Stannard, Baronet of 
the United Kingdom,’ and the word ‘ thief ’ after 
‘ Patrick George Connor,’ in the twentieth and 
twenty-third lines from the top hereof, having 
been deleted), in the presence of us . . 

The lawyer folded the will perversely and put 
it in his pocket. Then he took four slips of paper 
from an envelope. 

‘‘ It is quite clear to you gentlemen.” He did 
not wait for the men’s reply, but went on address- 
ing the bewildered girl. 

'' To you. Miss Kent, I am afraid the will is 
not so clear. I will explain it in a few words. 
My late client was the owner of a gambling es- 
tablishment. Thus he amassed a huge fortune, 
which he has left to form, if I may so put it, a 
large prize fund. The competitors are your- 


94 Angel Esquire 

selves. Frankly, it is a competition between the 
dupes, or the heirs of the dupes, who were ruined 
by my late client, and the men who helped in the 
fleecing.” 

The lawyer spoke dispassionately, as though 
expounding some hypothesis, but there was that 
in his tone which made Connor wince. 

Your father, my dear young lady, was one of 
these dupes many years ago — ^you must have been 
at school at the time. He became suddenly a 
poor man.” 

The girl’s face grew hard. 

So that was how it happened,” she said 
slowly. 

“ That is how it happened,” the lawyer re- 
peated gravely. “ Your father’s fortune was one 
of four great fortunes that went into the coffers 
of my late client.” The formal description of 
Reale seemed to lend him an air of respectability. 

The other three have long since died, neither of 
them leaving issue. You are the sole representa- 
tive of the victims. These gentlemen are — let us 


The Cryptogram 95 

say — in opposition. This safe,” he waved his 
hand toward the great steel room that crowned 
the granite column, contains the fortune. The 
safe itself is the invention of my late client. 
Where the lock should be are six dials, on each of 
which are the letters of the alphabet. The dials 
are ranged one inside the other, and on one side 
is a steel pointer. A word of six letters opens 
the safe. By turning the dials so that the letters 
come opposite the pointer, and form this word, 
the door is opened.” 

He stopped to wipe his forehead, for in the 
energy of his explanation he had become hot. 
Then he resumed — 

‘‘ What that word is, is for you to discover. 
My late client, who had a passion for acrostics 
and puzzles and inventions of every kind, has left 
a doggerel verse which he most earnestly assured 
me contained the solution.” 

He handed a slip first to the girl and then to 
the others. For a moment the world swam before 
Kathleen’s eyes. All that hinged upon that little 


g6 Angel Esquire 

verse came home to her. Carefully conning each 
word, as if in fear of its significance escaping 
her, she read : — 

“ Here’s a puzzle in language old, 

Find my meaning and get my gold. 

^ Take one Bolt — just one, no more — 

Fix it on behind a Door. 

Place it at a river’s Mouth 
East or west or north or south. 

Take some Leaves and put them whole 
In some water in a Bowl. 

I found this puzzle in a book 

From which some mighty truths were took.** 


She read again and yet again, the others watch- 
ing her. With every reading she seemed to get 
further from the solution of the mystery, and she 
turned in despair to Angel. 

“ I can make nothing of it,” she cried help- 
lessly, ‘‘nothing, nothing, nothing.” 

“ It is, with due respect to my late client, the 
veriest doggerel,” said the lawyer frankly, “ and 
yet upon that the inheritance of the whole of his 
fortune depends.” 


The Cryptogram 97 

He had noticed that neither Connor nor Jimmy 
had read the slips he had handed to them. 

The paper I have given you is a facsimile 
reproduction of the original copy, and that may 
be inspected at any time at my office.’’ 

The girl was scanning the rhyme in an agony 
of perplexity. 

I shall never do it,” she said in despair. 

Angel took the paper gently from her hand. 

Don’t attempt it,” he said kindly. '' There is 
plenty of time. I do not think that either of your 
rival competitors have gained anything by the 
advantage they have secured. I also have had in 
my possession a copy of the rhyme for the past 
week.” 

The girl’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. 

‘'You? ” she said. 

Angel’s explanation was arrested by a singular 
occurrence. 

Connor sat at one end of the row of chairs 
moodily eying the paper. Jimmy, thoughtfully 
stroking his beard at the other end, suddenly rose 


98 Angel Esquire 

and walked to where his brooding confederate 
sat. The man shrunk back as he approached, 
and Jimmy, seating himself by his side, bent for- 
ward and said something in a low voice. He 
spoke rapidly, and Angel, watching them closely, 
saw a look of incredulous surprise come into Con- 
nor’s face. Then wrath and incredulity mingled, 
and Connor sprang up, striking the back of the 
chair with his fist. 

“ What ? ” he roared. Give up a chance of a 
fortune? I’ll see you ” 

Jimmy’s voice never rose, but he gripped 
Connor’s arm and pulled him down into his 
chair. 

“ I won’t ! I won’t ! D’ye think I’m going to 
throw away ” 

Jimmy released the man’s arm and rose with a 
shrug of his shoulders. 

He walked to where Kathleen was standing. 

Miss Kent,” he said, and hesitated. “ It is 
difficult for me to say what I have to say; but I 
want to tell you that so far as I am concerned the 


The Cryptogram 99 

fortune is yours. I shall make no claim to it, and 
I will afford you every assistance that lies in my 
power to discover the word that is hidden in the 
verse.’’ 

The girl made no reply. Her lips were set 
tight, and the hard look that Angel had noticed 
when the lawyer had referred to her father came 
back again. 

Jimmy waited a moment for her to speak, but 
she made no sign, and with a slight bow he 
walked toward the door. 

“ Stop!” 

It was Kathleen that spoke, and Jimmy turned 
and waited. 

'' As I understand this will,” she said slowly, 

you are one of the men to whom my father 
owed his ruin.” 

His eyes met hers unfalteringly. 

‘‘ Yes,” he said simply. 

“ One of the men that I have to thank for years 
of misery and sorrow,” she continued. When I 
saw my father slowly sinking, a broken-hearted 


I oo Angel Esquire 

man, weighed down with the knowledge of the 
folly that had brought his wife and child to com- 
parative poverty; when I saw my father die, 
crushed in spirit by his misfortunes, I never 
thought I should meet the man who brought his 
ruin about.’’ 

Still Jimmy’s gaze did not waver. Impassive, 
calm and imperturbable, he listened unmoved to 
the bitter indictment. 

‘‘ This will says you were a man of my father’s 
own class, one who knew the tricks by which a 
gentle, simple man, with a childish faith in such 
men as you, might be lured into temptation.” 

Jimmy made no reply, and the girl went on in 
biting tones — 

'' A few days ago you helped me to escape from 
men whom you introduced with an air of superi- 
ority as thieves and blackmailers. That it was 
you who rendered me this service I shall regret to 
the end of my days. You! You! You! ” She 
flung out her hand scornfully. ‘‘If they were 
thieves, what are you? A gambler’s tout? A 


The Cryptogram loi 

decoy? A harpy preying on the weakness of 
your unfortunate fellows ? ’’ 

She turned to Connor. 

Had this man offered me his help I might 
have accepted it. Had he offered to forego his 
claim to this fortune I might have been impressed 
by his generosity. From you, whom God gave 
advantages of birth and education, and who 
utilized them to bring ruin and disaster on such 
men as my father, the offer is an insult ! ” 

Jimmy’s face was deadly pale, but he made no 
sign. Only his eyes shone brighter, and the 
hand that twisted the point of his beard twitched 
nervously. 

The girl turned to Angel wearily. Her out- 
burst and the tension of the evening had ex- 
hausted her. 

“ Will you take me home, Mr. Angel ? ” she 
said. 

She offered her hand to the lawyer, who had 
been an interested observer of the scene, and 
ignoring the two men, she turned to go. 


102 


Angel Esquire 

Then Jimmy spoke. 

I do not attempt to excuse myself, Miss 
Kent,'' he said evenly; ‘‘ for my life and my acts 
I am unaccountable to man or woman. Your 
condemnation makes it neither easier nor harder 
to live my life. Your charity might have made 
a difference." 

He held out a detaining hand, for Kathleen 
had gathered up her skirts to move away. 

I have considered your question fairly. I 
am one of the men to whom your father owed his 
ruin, insomuch as I was one of Reale's associates. 
I am not one of the men, insomuch as I used 
my every endeavor to dissuade your father from 
taking the risks he took." 

The humor of some recollection took hold of 
him, and a grim little smile came into his face. 

You say I betrayed your father," he said in 
the same quiet tone. ‘‘ As a fact I betrayed 
Reale. I was at trouble to explain to your father 
the secret of Reale's electric roulette table; I 
demonstrated the futility of risking another 


The Cryptogram 103 

farthing/' He laughed. ‘‘ I have said I would 
not excuse myself, and here I am pleading like a 
small boy, ‘ If you please, it wasn’t me,’ ” he 
said a little impatiently; and then he added 
abruptly, “ I will not detain you,” and walked 
away. 

He knew instinctively that she waited a mo- 
ment hesitating for a reply, then he heard the 
rustle of her dress and knew she had gone. He 
stood looking upward to where the graven granite 
set marked the ashes of Reale, until her footsteps 
had died away and the lawyer’s voice broke the 
silence. 

'' Now, Sir James ” he began, and Jimmy 

spun round with an oath, his face white with 
passion. 

“ Jimmy,” he said in a harsh voice, Jimmy is 
my name, and I want to hear no other, if you 
please.” 

Mr. Spedding, used as he was to the wayward 
phases of men, was a little startled at the effect of 
his words, and hastened to atone for his blunder. 


1 04 Angel Esquire 

“ I — I beg your pardon,” he said quickly. “ I 
merely wished to say ” 

Jimmy did not wait to hear what he said, but 
turned upon Connor. 

‘‘ Fve got a few words to say to you,” he said. 
His voice had gone back to its calm level, but 
there was a menace in its quietness. 

When I persuaded Angel to give you a chance 
to get away on the night the ‘ Borough Lot ’ was 
arrested, I hoped I could get you to agree with 
me that the money should be handed to Miss 
Kent when the word was found. I knew in my 
inmost heart that this was a forlorn hope,” he 
went on, that there is no gold in the quartz of 
your composition. You are just beast all 
through.” 

He paced the floor of the hall for a minute or 
two, then he stopped. 

'' Connor,” he said suddenly, “ you tried to 
take my life the other night. I have a mind to 
retaliate. You may go ahead and puzzle out the 
word that unlocks that safe. Get it by any means 


The Cryptogram 105 

that suggest themselves to you. Steal it, buy it — 
do anything you wish. The day you secure the 
key to Reale's treasure I shall kill you." 

He talked like a man propounding a simple 
business proposition, and the lawyer, who in his 
early youth had written a heavy little paper 
on ‘‘ The Congenital Criminal," listened and 
watched, and, in quite a respectable way, 
gloated. 

Jimmy picked up his hat and coat from a chair, 
and nodding to the lawyer, strolled out of the hall. 

In the vestibule where the one commissionaire 
had been were six. Every man was a non-com- 
missioned officer, and, as was apparent from his 
medals, had seen war service. Jimmy noted the 
belt about each man and the dangling revolver 
holster, and approved of the lawyer's precaution. 

“ Night guard, sergeant-major? " he asked, ad- 
dressing one whose crowned sleeve showed his 
rank. 

‘‘ Day and night guard, sir," replied the officer 
quietly. 


I o6 Angel Esquire 

“ Good,” said Jimmy, and passed out into the 
street. 

And now only the lawyer and Connor re- 
mained, and as Jimmy left, they too prepared 
for departure. 

The lawyer was mildly interested in the big, 
heavy criminal who walked by his side. He was 
a fairly familiar type of the bull-headed des- 
perado. 

“ There is nothing I can explain ? ’’ asked Sped- 
ding, as they stood together in the vestibule. 

Connor’s eyes were on the guard, and he 
frowned a little. 

You don’t trust us very much,” he said. 

“ I don’t trust you at all,” said the lawyer. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE RED ENVELOPE 

Mr. Spedding, the admirable lawyer, lived on 
Clapham Common, where he owned the freehold 
of that desirable residence, “ High Holly Lodge.’' 

He was a bachelor, with a taste for bridge 
parties and Madeira. Curious neighbors would 
have beeii mystified if they had known that Mr. 
Spedding’s repair bill during the first two years 
of his residence was something well over three 
thousand pounds. What they did know was that 
Mr. Spedding had the builders in ” for an un- 
conscionable time, that they were men who spoke 
in a language entirely foreign to Clapham, and 
that they were housed during the period of reno- 
vation in a little galvanized iron bungalow erected 
for the purpose in the grounds. 

A neighbor on visiting terms expressed his 
107 




J 


io8 Angel Esquire 

opinion that for all the workmen had done he 
could discern no material difference in the struc- 
ture of the house, and from his point of view the 
house presented the same appearance after the 
foreign builders left, as it did before their advent. 
Mr. Spedding met all carelessly-applied questions 
concerning the extent of the structural alterations 
with supreme discretion. He spoke vaguely 
about a new system of ventilation, and hinted at 
warmth by radiation. 

Suburbia loves to show off its privately con- 
ceived improvements to property, but Mr. Sped- 
ding met veiled hints of a desire to inspect his 
work with that comfortable smile which was so 
valuable an asset of his business. 

It was a few evenings after the scene in the 
Lombard Street Deposit that Mr. Spedding sat in 
solitude before his modest dinner at Clapham. 

An evening newspaper lay by the side of his 
chair, and he picked it up at intervals to read 
again the paragraph which told of the release of 
the “ Borough Lot.'' The paragraph read : — 


The Red Envelope 


109 

The men arrested in connection with the 
gambling raid at Poplar were discharged to- 
day, the police, it is understood, failing to 
secure sufficient evidence to justify a prosecu- 
tion.” 

The lawyer shook his head doubtfully. 

‘‘ I rather like Angel Esquire’s definition,” he 
said with a wry smile. ‘‘It is a neat method 
of saving the face of the police, but I 
could wish that the ‘ Borough Lot ’ were out of 
the way.” 

Later he had occasion to change his opinion. 

A tap at the door preceded the entry of a sedate 
butler. The lawyer looked at the card on the 
tray, and hesitated; then, “ Show him in,” he 
said. 

Jimmy came into the room, and bowed slightly 
to the elder man, who rose at his entrance. 

They waited in silence till the servant had 
closed the door behind him. 

“ To what am I indebted ? ” began the lawyer, 
and motioned his visitor to a seat. 


no Angel Esquire 

May I smoke ? ” asked Jimmy, and Mr. Sped- 
ding nodded. 

It is in the matter of Reale’s millions,” said 
Jimmy, and allowed his eyes to follow the cloud 
of smoke he blew. 

I thought it was understood that this was a j 
subject which might only be discussed at my office | 
and in business hours ? ” said the lawyer sharply, | 
and Jimmy nodded again. 

‘‘ You will confess, Mr. Spedding,” he said 
easily, that the Reale will is sufficiently uncon- I 
ventional to justify any departure from estab- j 

lished custom on the part of the fortunate or un- I 

fortunate legatees.” 

Mr. Spedding made an impatient movement of j 
his hand. 

I do not inquire into your business,” Jimmy j 
went on smoothly enough, “ and I am wholly in- ! 
curious as to in what strange manner you became j 
acquainted with your late client, or what fees you , 
received to undertake so extraordinary a commis- I 
sion; but I am satisfied that you are recompensed | 


1 1 1 


The Red Envelope 

for such trifling inconveniences as — say an after- 
dinner visit from myself.’’ 

Jimmy had a way of choosing his words, hesi- 
tating for the exact expression that would best 
convey every shade of his meaning. The lawyer, 
too, recognized the logic of the speech, and 
contented himself with a shrug which meant 
nothing. 

“ I do not inquire into your motives,” Jimmy 
resumed ; it pleases me to believe that they are 
entirely disinterested, that your attitude is the 
ideal one as between client and agent.” 

His pause was longer this time, and the lawyer 
was piqued into interjecting an impatient — 

“ Well?” 

“ Well,” said Jimmy slowly, believing all this, 
let us say, I am at a loss to know why at the read- 
ing of the will you gave us no indication of the 
existence of a key to this mysterious verse.” 

‘‘ There is no key,” said the lawyer quickly, 
and added, so far as I know.” 

“ That you did not tell us,” Jimmy went on, as 


1 1 2 Angel Esquire 

though unconscious of any interruption, “ of the 
big red envelope 

Spedding sprang to his feet white as death. 

‘‘ The envelope,” he stammered angrily, “ what 
do you know — what envelope ? ” 

Jimmy hand waved him to his seat. 

“ Let us have no emotions, no flights, no out- , 
raged honor, I beg of you, dear Mr. Spedding. I 

j 

do not suggest that you have any sinister reasons 
for withholding information concerning what my 
friend Angel would call the ‘ surprise packet.’ In I 

good time I do not doubt you would have dis- i 

closed its existence.” 

“ I know of no red envelope,” said the lawyer 
doggedly. I 

“ I rather fancied you would say that,” said 
Jimmy, with a touch of admiration in his tone, j 
You are not the sort of fox to curl up and howl i 
at the first bay of the hound — if you will permit ; 
the simile — indeed, you would have disappointed ^ 

me if you had.” i 

The lawyer paced the room. I 


The Red Envelope 1 1 3 

Look here/’ he said, coming to a halt before 
the semi-recumbent form that lay behind a haze 
of cigarette smoke in the arm-chair, “you’ve 
spent a great deal of your time telling me what I 
am, describing my many doubtful qualities, and 
hinting more or less broadly that I am a fairly 
representative scoundrel. May I ask what is 
your ultimate object? Is it blackmail?” he de- 
manded harshly. 

“ No,” said Jimmy, by no means disconcerted 
by the brutality of the question. 

“ Are you begging, or borrowing, or ” 

“ Stealing? ” murmured Jimmy lazily. 

“ All that I have to say to you is, finish your 
business and go. Furthermore, you are at liberty 
to come with me to-morrow morning and search 
my office and question my clerks. I will accom- 
pany you to my banks, and to the strong-room I 
rent at the deposit. Search for this red envelope 
you speak about, and if you find it, you are 
at liberty to draw the worst deductions you 
will” 


1 1 4 Angel Esquire 

Jimmy pulled gently at his cigarette with re- 
flective eyes cast upward to the ceiling. 

“ Do you speak Spanish ? ” he asked. 

‘‘ No/' said the other impatiently. 

It’s a pity,” said Jimmy, with a note of gen- 
uine regret. Spanish is a very useful language 
— especially in the Argentine, for which delight- 
ful country, I understand, lawyers who betray 
their trust have an especial predilection. My j 
Spanish needs a little furbishing, and only the 
other day I was practising with a man whose | 
name, I believe, is Murrello. Do you know j 
him?” j 

‘‘If you have completed your business, I will 
ring for the servant,” said the lawyer. 

“ He told me — my Spaniard, I mean — a curi- 
ous story. He comes from Barcelona, and by | 
way of being a mason or something of the sort, [ 
was brought to England with some other of his 
fellow-countrymen to make some curious altera- 
tions to the house of a Sehor in — er — ^Clapham 
of all places in the world.” 


IIS 


The Red Envelope 

Tlie lawyer’s breath came short and fast. 

'' From what I was able to gather,” Jimmy 
went on languidly, ‘‘ and my Spanish is Andalu- 
sian rather than Catalonian, so that I missed some 
of his interesting narrative, these alterations par- 
took of the nature of wonderfully concealed 
strong-rooms — steel doors artfully covered with 
cheap wood carving, vaults cunningly constructed 
beneath innocent basement kitchens, little stair- 
ways in apparently solid walls and the 
like.” 

The levity went out of his voice, and he 
straightened himself in his chair. 

‘‘ I have no desire to search your office,” he 
said quietly, ‘‘ or perhaps I should say no further 
desire, for I have already methodically examined 
every hole and corner. No,” he checked the 
words on Spedding’s lips, no, it was not I who 
committed the blundering burglary you spoke of. 
You never found traces of me. I’ll swear. You 
may keep the keys of your strong-room, and I 
shall not trouble your bankers/’ 


1 1 6 Angel Esquire 

‘‘What do you want?’* demanded the lawyer 
shortly. 

“ I want to see what you have got downstairs,” 
was the reply, and there was no doubting its 
earnestness, “ and more especially do I want to 
see the red envelope.” 

The lawyer bent his brows in thought. His 
eyes were fixed unwaveringly on Jimmy’s. 

“ Suppose,” he said slowly, “ suppose that such 
an envelope did exist, suppose for the sake of 
argument these mysterious vaults and secret 
chambers are, as you suggest, in existence, what 
right have you, more than any other one of the 
beneficiaries under the will, to demand a private 
examination? Why should I give you an unfair 
advantage over them?” 

Jimmy rose to his feet and stretched himself 
before replying. 

“ There is only one legatee whom I recognize,” 
he said briefly, “ that is the girl. The money is 
hers. I do not want a farthing. I am equally 
determined that nobody else shall touch a penny 


The Red Envelope 1 1 7 

— neither my young friend Connor — ^he stopped 
to give emphasis to the next two words — ** nor 
yourself.” 

Sir ! ” said the outraged Mr. Spedding. 

Nor yourself, Mr. Spedding,” repeated 
Jimmy with conviction. “ Let us understand 
each other thoroughly. You are, as I read you, 
a fairly respectable citizen. I would trust you 
with ten or a hundred thousand pounds without 
experiencing the slightest anxiety. I would not 
trust you with two millions in solid cash, nor 
would I trust any man. The magnitude of the 
sum is calculated to overwhelm your moral sense. 
The sooner the red envelope is in the possession 
of Angel Esquire the better for us all.” 

Spedding stood with bent head, his fingers 
nervously stroking his jaw, thinking. 

“An agile mind this,” thought Jimmy; “if I 
am not careful there will be trouble here.” 

He watched the lawyer's face, and noticed the 
lines suddenly disappear from the troubled face, 
and the placid smile returning. 


1 1 8 Angel Esquire 

“ Conciliation and partial confession/’ judged 
Jimmy, and his diagnosis was correct. 

Well, Mr. Jimmy,” said Spedding, with some 
show of heartiness, “ since you know so much, it 
may be as well to tell you more. As you have so 
cleverly discovered, my house to a great extent is 
a strong-room. There are many valuable docu- 
ments that I could not with any confidence leave 
deposited at my office. They are safer here under 
my eye, so to speak. The papers of the late Mr. 
Reale are, I confess, in this house; but — now 
mark me — whether the red envelope you speak of 
is amongst these I do not know. There is a mul- 
titude of documents in connection with the case, 
all of which I have had no time to go through. 
The hour is late, but ” 

He paused irresolutely. 

“ If you would care to inspect the mysteries 

of the basement ” — ^he smiled benevolently, and 
was his old self — “ I shall be happy to have your 
assistance in a cursory search.” 

Jimmy was alert and watchful and to the point. 


The Red Envelope 1 1 9 

“ Lead the way/’ he said shortly, and Sped- 
ding, after a moment’s hesitation, opened the door 
and Jimmy followed him into the hall. 

Contrary to his expectations, the lawyer led 
him upstairs, and through a plainly furnished bed- 
room to a small dressing-room that opened off. 
There was a conventional wardrobe against the 
wall, and this Spedding opened. A dozen suits 
hung from hooks and stretchers, and the lawyer 
groped amongst these for a moment. Then there 
was a soft click, and the back of the wardrobe 
swung back. 

Spedding turned to his visitor with a quizzical 
smile. 

'' Your friend Angel’s method of gaining ad- 
mittance to the haunt of the ‘ Borough Lot ’ was 
not original. Come.” 

Jimmy stepped gingerly through into the dark- 
ness. He heard the snap of a button, and a soft 
glow of light revealed a tiny chamber, in which 
two men might comfortably stand upright. The 
back of the wardrobe closed, and they were alone 


120 Angel Esquire 

in a little room about as large as an average cup- 
board. 

There was a steel lever on one side of the walls, 
and this the lawyer pulled cautiously. Jimmy 
felt a sinking sensation, and heard a faint, far-off 
buzzing of machinery. 

An electric lift, I take it,” he said quietly. 

** An electric lift,” repeated the lawyer. 

Down, down, down they sank, till Jimmy cal- 
culated that they must be at least twenty feet 
below the street level. Then the lift slowed down | 
and stopped at a door. Spedding opened this j 
with a key he took from his pocket, and they | 
stepped out into a chill, earthy darkness. 

“ There’s a light here,” said the lawyer, and | 
groped for the switch. ' 

They were in a large vaulted apartment lit from | 
the roof. At one end a steel door faced them, i 
and ranged about the vault on iron racks a num- i 
ber of black japanned boxes. | 

Jimmy noted the inscriptions, and was a little ! 
surprised at the extent and importance of the 


I2I 


The Red Envelope 

solicitor's practice. Spedding must have read his 
thoughts, for he turned with a smile. 

“ Not particularly suggestive of a defaulting 
solicitor," he said ironically. 

“ Two million pounds," replied Jimmy immedi- 
ately, “ that is my answer to you, Mr. Spedding. 
An enormous fortune for the reaching. I 
wouldn't trust the Governors of the Bank of 
England." 

Spedding may have been annoyed as he walked 
to the door in the wall and opened it, but he 
effectively concealed his annoyance. 

As the door fell backward, Jimmy saw a little 
apartment, four feet by six feet, with a roof he 
could touch with his hand. There was a fresh 
current of air, but from whence it came he could 
not discover. The only articles of furniture in 
the little cell were a writing table and a swing 
chair placed exactly beneath the electric lamp in 
the roof. 

Spedding pulled open a drawer in the 
desk. 


122 Angel Esquire 

‘‘ I do not keep my desks locked here/' he said 
pleasantly enough. 

It was characteristic of him that he indulged in 
no preamble, no apologetic preliminaries, and that 
he showed no sign of embarrassment as he slipped 
his hand into the drawer, and drawing forth a 
bulky red envelope, threw it on to the desk. 

You might have forgotten that his last words 
were denials that the red envelope had existed. 
Jimmy looked at him curiously, and the lawyer 
returned his gaze. 

‘‘ A new type ? ” he asked. 

‘‘ Hardly,’’ said Jimmy cheerfully. ‘‘ I once 
knew a man like you in the Argentine — ^he was 
hanged eventually.” 

‘‘ Curious,” mused the lawyer, ‘‘ I have often 
thought I might be hanged, but have never quite 

seen why ” He nearly added something 

else, but checked himself. 

Jimmy had the red envelope in his hand and 
was examining it closely. It was heavily sealed 
with the lawyer’s own seal, and bore the inscrip- 


The Red Envelope 123 

tion in Reale's crabbed, illiterate handwriting, 
“ Puzzle Ideas." He weighed it and pinched it. 
There was a little compact packet inside. 

I shall open this," said Jimmy decisively. 
“ You, of course, have already examined it." 

The lawyer made no reply. 

Jimmy broke the seal of the envelope. Half 
his mind was busy in speculation as to its con- 
tents, the other half was engaged with the law- 
yer's plans. Jimmy was too experienced a man 
to be deceived by the complaisance of the smooth 
Mr. Spedding. He watched his every move. All 
the while he was engaged in what appeared to be 
a concentrated examination of the packet his eyes 
never left the lawyer. That Spedding made no 
sign was a further proof in Jimmy's eyes that the 
coup was to come. 

We might as well examine the envelope up- 
stairs as here," said the lawyer. The other man 
nodded, and followed him from the cell. Sped- 
ding closed the steel door and locked it, then 
turned to Jimmy. 


124 Angel Esquire 

“ Do you notice/’ he said with some satisfac- 
tion, ‘‘ how skilfully this chamber is con- 
structed ? ” He waved his hand round the larger 
vault, at the iron racks and the shiny black boxes. 

Jimmy was alert now. The lawyer’s geniality 
was too gratuitous, his remarks a trifle inapropos. 
It was like the lame introduction to a story which 
the teller was anxious to drag in at all hazards. 

** Here, for instance,” said the lawyer, tapping 
one of the boxes, “ is what appears to be an 
ordinary deed box. As a matter of fact, it is an 
ingenious device for trapping burglars, if they 
should by any chance reach the vault. It is not 
opened by an ordinary key, but by the pressure 
of a button, either in my room or here.” 

He walked leisurely to the end of the vault, 
Jimmy following. 

For a man of his build Spedding was a re- 
markably agile man. Jimmy had underrated his 
agility. 

He realized this when suddenly the lights went 
out. Jimmy sprang for the lawyer, and struck 


The Red Envelope 


125 


the rough stone wall of the vault. He groped 
quickly left and right, and grasped only the air. 

Keep quiet,” commanded Spedding’s calm 
voice from the other end of the chamber, “ and 
keep cool. I am going to show you my burglar 
catcher.” 

Jimmy’s fingers were feeling along the wall for 
the switch that controlled the lights. As if divin- 
ing his intention, the lawyer’s voice said — 

'' The lights are out of control, Jimmy, and I 
am fairly well out of your reach.” 

“ We shall see,” was Jimmy’s even reply. 

And if you start shooting you will only make 
the atmosphere of this place a little more un- 
breathable than it is at present,” Spedding went 
on. 

Jimmy smiled in the darkness, and the lawyer 
heard the snap of a Colt pistol as his captive 
loaded. 

Did you notice the little ventilator ? ” asked 
the lawyer’s voice again. ‘‘ Well, I am behind 
that. Between my unworthy body and your 


126 Angel Esquire 

nickel bullets there are two feet of solid 
masonry.” 

Jimmy made no reply, his pistol went back to 
his hip again. He had his electric lamp in his 
pocket, but prudently kept it there. 

‘‘ Before we go any further,” he said slowly, 

“ will you be good enough to inform me as to j 
your intentions ? ” 

He wanted three minutes, he wanted them very 
badly; perhaps two minutes would be enough. All 
the time the lawyer was speaking he was actively I 
employed. He had kicked off his shoes when the | 
lights went out, and now he stole round the room, 
his sensitive hands flying over the stony walls. 

“ As to my intentions,” the lawyer was saying, i 
it must be fairly obvious to you that I am not 
going to hand you over to the police. Rather, my j 
young friend, in the vulgar parlance of the crim- i 
inal classes, I am going to ' do you in,’ meaning | 
thereby, if you will forgive the legal terminology, | 
that I shall assist you to another and, 1 hope, ! 
though I am not sanguine, a better world.” 


The Red Envelope 127 

He heard Jimmy’s insolent laugh in the black- 
ness. 

“ You are a man after my own heart, Jimmy,” 
he went on regretfully. “ I could have wished 
that I might have been spared this painful duty; 
but it is a duty, one that I owe to society and 
myself.” 

“ You are an amusing person,” said Jimmy’s 
voice. 

‘‘ I am glad you think so. Jimmy, my young 
friend, I am afraid our conversation must end 
here. Do you know anything of chemistry? ” 

A little.” 

‘‘ Then you will appreciate my burglar catcher,” 
said Spedding, with uncanny satisfaction. “ You, 
perhaps, noticed the japanned box with the per- 
forated lid? You did? Good! There are two 
compartments, and two chemicals in certain 
quantities kept apart. My hand is on the key now 
that will combine them. When cyanide of potas- 
sium is combined with sulphuric acid, do you 
know what gas is formed ? ” 


128 Angel Esquire 

Jimmy did not reply. He had found what he 
had been searching for. His talk with the Span- 
ish builder had been to some purpose. It was a 
little stony projection from the wall. He pressed 
it downward, and was sensible of a sensation of 
coldness. He reached out his hand, and found 
where solid wall had been a blank space. | 

“Do you hear, Jimmy?” asked the lawyer's j 
voice. 

“ I hear,” replied Jimmy, and felt for the edge | 

i 

of the secret door. His fingers sliding down the ' 
smooth surface of the flange encountered the two ! 
catches. < I 

“ It is hydrocyanic acid,” said the lawyer's 
smooth voice, and Jimmy heard the snap of the | 
button. 

“ Good-by,” said the lawyer's voice again, and j 
Jimmy reeled back through the open doorway ' 
swinging the door behind him, and carrying with 
him a whiff of air heavily laden with the scent 
of almonds. ’ 


CHAPTER VII 


WHAT THE RED ENVELOPE HELD 

My dear Angel,” wrote Jimmy, I commend 
to you one Mr. Spedding, an ingenious man. 
If by chance you ever wish to visit him, do so in 
business hours. If you desire to examine his 
most secret possession, effect an entrance into a 
dreary-looking house at the corner of Cley’s Road, 
a stone’s-throw from ' High Holly Lodge.’ It 
is marked in plain characters 'To Let.’ In the 
basement you will find a coal-cellar. Searching 
the coal-cellar diligently, you will discover a flight 
of stone steps leading to a subterranean passage, 
which burrows under the ground until it arrives 
at friend Spedding’s particular private vault. If 
this reads like a leaf torn from Dumas or dear 
Harrison Ainsworth it is not my fault. I visited 
our legal adviser last night, and had quite a thrill- 
ing evening. That I am alive this morning is 
129 


^ngel Esquire 

my caution and foreseeing wisdom. 
. of my visit is this : I have the key of 
le-word ' in my hands. Come and get it.” 
mgel found the message awaiting him when 
.1^ reached Scotland Yard that morning. He too 
had spent sleepless hours in a futile attempt to 
unravel the mystery of old Reale’s doggerel verse. 

A telegram brought Kathleen Kent to town. 
Angel met her at a quiet restaurant in Rupert 
Street, and was struck by the delicate beauty of 
this slim girl with the calm, gray eyes. 

She greeted him with a sad little smile. 

“I was afraid you would never see me again 
after my outburst of the other night,” she said. 

This — this — person is a friend of yours ? ” 

“ Jimmy? ” asked the detective cheerily. Oh, 
yes, Jimmy’s by way of being a friend; but he 
deserved all you said, and he knows it. Miss 
Kent.” 

The girl’s face darkened momentarily as she 
thought of Jimmy. 

I shall never understand,” she said slowly. 


What the Red Envelope Held 13 1 

‘‘ how a man of his gifts allowed himself to be- 
come ” 

“ But,” protested the detective, “ he told you 
he took no part in the decoying of your father.” 

The girl turned with open-eyed astonishment. 

Surely you do not expect me to believe his 
excuses,” she cried. 

Angel Esquire looked grave. 

“ That is just what I should ask you to believe,” 
he said quietly. Jimmy makes no excuses, and 
he would certainly tell no lie in extenuation of 
his faults.” 

But — but,” said Kathleen, bewildered, he is 
a thief by his own showing — a bad man.” 

A thief,” said Angel soberly, but not a bad 
man. Jimmy is a puzzle to most people. To me 
he is perfectly understandable; that is because I 
have too much of the criminal in my own compo- 
sition, perhaps.” 

“ I wish, oh, how I wish I had your faith in 
him ! Then I could absolve him from suspicion 
of having helped ruin my poor father.” 


132 Angel Esquire 

I think you can do that/' said the detective 
almost eagerly. Believe me, Jimmy is not to be 
judged by conventional standards. If you ask 
me to describe him, I would say that he is a genius 
who works in an eccentric circle that sometimes 
overlaps, sometimes underreaches the rigid circle 
of the law. If you asked me as a policeman, and 
if I was his bitterest enemy, what I could do with 
Jimmy, I should say, ' Nothing.' I know of no 
crime with which I could charge him, save at 
times with associating with doubtful characters. 
As a matter of fact, that equally applies to me. 
Listen, Miss Kent. The first big international 
case I figured in was a gigantic fraud on the 
Egyptian Bank. Some four hundred thousand 
pounds were involved, and whilst from the out- 
sider’s point of view Jimmy was beyond suspicion, 
yet we who were working at the case suspected 
him, and pretty strongly. The men who owned 
the bank were rich Egyptians, and the head of all 
was a Somebody-or-other Pasha, as great a scoun- 
drel as ever drew breath. It is impossible to tell 


What the Red Envelope Held 133 

a lady exactly how big a scoundrel he was, but 
you may guess. Well, the Pasha knew it was 
Jimmy who had done the trick, and we knew, but 
we dare not say so. The arrest of Jimmy would 
have automatically ruined the banker. That was 
where I realized the kind of man I had to deal 
with, and I am always prepared when Jimmy’s 
name is mentioned in connection with a big crime 
to discover that his victim deserved all he got, 
and a little more.” 

The girl gave a little shiver. 

‘‘ It sounds dreadful. Cannot such a man as 
that employ his talents to a greater advantage ? ” 

Angel shrugged his shoulders despairingly. 

“ I’ve given up worrying about misapplied 
talents; it is a subject that touches me too 
closely,” he said. “ But as to Jimmy, I’m rather 
glad you started the conversation in that direc- 
tion, because I’m going to ask you to meet him 
to-day.” 

‘‘ Oh, but I couldn’t,” she began. 

“ You are thinking of what happened on the 


134 Angel Esquire | 

i 

night the will was read? Well, you must forget 
that. Jimmy has the key to the verse, and it is 
absolutely imperative that you should be present 
this afternoon.’’ ' 

With some demur, she consented. i 

i 

In the sitting-room of Jimmy’s flat the three j 
sat round a table littered with odds and ends of 
papers. j 

The girl had met him with some trepidation, | 
and his distant bow had done more to assure her j 
than had he displayed a desire to rehabilitate him- [ 
self in her good opinion. . 

Without any preliminaries, Jimmy showed the ► 

contents of the packet. He did not explain to 
the girl by what means he had come into posses- I 
sion of them. I 

“ Of all these papers,” began Jimmy, tapping j 

the letter before him, only one is of any service, 
and even that makes confusion worse confounded. 
Reale had evidently had this cursed cryptogram 
in his mind for a long time. He had made many 


What the Red Envelope Held 135 

experiments, and rejected many. Here is 
one. 

He pushed over a card, which bore a few words 
in Reale’s characteristic hand. 

Angel read: — 

‘‘ The word of five letters I will use, namely : 

1. White every 24 sec. 

2. Fixed white and red. 

3. White group two every 30 sec. 

4. Group occ. white red sec. 30 sec. 

5. Fixed white and red.” 

Underneath was written: “No good; too 
easy.” 

The detective’s brows were bent in perplexity. 

“ I’m bless'^d if I can see where the easiness 
comes in,” he said. “To me it seems so much 
gibberish, and as difficult as the other.” 

Jimmy noted the detective’s bewilderment with 
a quiet smile of satisfaction. He did not look 
directly at the girl, but out of the corner of his 
eyes he could see her eager young face bent over 


136 Angel Esquire 

the card, her pretty forehead wrinkled in a de- 
spairing attempt to decipher the curious docu- 
ment. 

“ Yet it was easy,’' he said, and if Reale had 
stuck to that word, the safe would have been 
opened by now.” 

Angel pored over the mysterious clue. 

“ The word, as far as I can gather,” said 
Jimmy, ‘Ms ‘ smock,’ but it may be ” 

“ How on earth ” began Angel in amaze- 

ment. 

“ Oh, it’s easy,” said Jimmy cheerfully, “ and 
I am surprised that an old traveler like yourself 
should have missed it.” 

“ Group occ. white red sec. 30 sec.,” read 
Angel. 

Jimmy laughed. 

It was the first time the girl had seen this 
strange man throw aside his habitual restraint, 
and she noted with an unaccountable satis- 
faction that he was decidedly handsome when 
amused. 


What the Red Envelope Held 1 37 

''Let me translate it for you,” said Jimmy. 
" Let me expand it into, ' Group occulting White 
with Red Sectors every Thirty Seconds.' Now 
do you understand ? ” 

Angel shook his head. 

" You may think I am shockingly dense,” he 
said frankly, " but even with your lucid explana- 
tion I am still in the dark.” 

Jimmy chuckled. 

" Suppose you went to Dover to-night, and sat 
at the end of the Admiralty Pier. It is a beauti- 
ful night, with stars in the sky, and you are look- 
ing toward France, and you see ?” 

" Nothing,” said Angel slowly; " a few ships' 
lights, perhaps, and the flash of the Calais Light- 
house ” 

" The occulting flash ? ” suggested Jimmy. 

" The occ. ! By Jove ! ” 

" Glad you see it,” said Jimmy briskly. " What 
old Reale did was to take the names of five 
famous lights — any nautical almanac will give 
you them : 


138 Angel Esquire 

Sanda. 

Milford Haven. 

Orkneys. 

Caldy Island. 

Kinnaird Head. 

They form an acrostic, and the initial letters form 
the work ‘ smock ’ ; but it was too easy — and too 
hard, because there are two or three lights, par- 
ticularly the fixed lights, that are exactly the 
same, so he dropped that idea.” 

Angel breathed an admiring sigh. 

“ Jimmy, youTe a wonder,” he said 
simply. 

Jimmy, busying himself amongst the papers, 
stole a glance at the girl. 

‘‘ I am very human,” he thought, and was an- 
noyed at the discovery. 

‘‘Now we come to the more important clue,” 
he said, and smoothed a crumpled paper on the 
table. 

“ This, I believe, to have a direct bearing on the 


verse. 


What the Red Envelope Held 139 

Then three heads came close together over the 
scrawled sheet. 

A picture of a duck, which means T,’' spelt 
Angel, and that’s erased; and then it is a snake 
that means T ” 

Jimmy nodded. 

‘‘ In Reale’s verse,” he said deliberately, there 
are six words; outside of those six words I am 
convinced the verse has no meaning. Six words 
strung together, and each word in capitals. 
Listen.” 

He took from his pocketbook the familiar slip 
on which the verse was written : — 

“ Here’s a puzzle in language old, 

Find my meaning and get my gold. 

Take one BOLT — ^just one, no more — 

Fix it on behind a DOOR. 

Place it at a river’s MOUTH 
East or west or north or south. 

Take some LEAVES and put them whole 
In some WATER in a BOWL. 

I found this puzzle in a book 

From which some mighty truths were took.” 

‘‘ There are six words,” said Jimmy, and 
scribbled them down as he spoke: — 


140 


Angel Esquir 

“ Bolt (or Bolts). Leave (or Leaves). 

Door' Water. 

Mouth. Bowl. 

Each one stands for a letter — ^but what letter ? 

“ It's rather hopeless if the old man has 

searched round for all sorts of out-of-the-way 
objects, and allowed them to stand for letters of 
the alphabet,” said Angel. 

The girl murmured something, and met * 
Jimmy’s inquiring eyes. I 

I was only saying,” she said hesitatingly, : 
‘‘ that there seems to be a method in all this.” | 
“Except,” said Jimmy, “for this,” and he i 
pointed to the crossed-out duck. “ By that it ! 
would seem that Reale chose his symbols hap- 1 
hazard, and that the duck not pleasing him, he I 
'substituted the snake.” 1 

“ But,” said Kathleen, addressing Angel, i ; 
“ doesn’t it seem strange that an illiterate man like | j 
Mr. Reale should make even these rough sketches 
unless he had a model to draw from? ” ' 

“ Miss Kent is right,” said Jimmy quickly. | ; 


What the Red Envelope Held 141 

‘‘ And/’ she went on, gaining confidence as she 
spoke, ‘‘ is there not something about these draw- 
ings that reminds you of something? ” 

“ Of what? ” asked Angel. 

“ I cannot tell,” she replied, shaking her head ; 

and yet they remind me of something, and 
worry me, just as a bar of music that I cannot 
play worries me. I feel sure that I have seen 
them before, that they form a part of some sys- 
tem ” She stopped suddenly. 

“I know,” she continued in a lower voice; 
‘‘ they are associated in my mind — with — with 
the Bible.” 

The two men stared at her in blank astonish- 
ment. Then Jimmy sprang to his feet, alight 
with excitement. 

Yes, yes,” he cried. Angel, don’t you see? 
The last two lines of Reale’s doggerel — 

** * 1 found this puzzle in a book 

From which some mighty truths were took.’ ” 


'' Go on, go on. Miss Kent,” cried Angel 


142 Angel Esquire 

eagerly. “ You are on the right track. Try to 
think ” 

Kathleen hesitated, then turned to Jimmy to 

address the first remark she had directed to him (1 

S'! 

personally that day. j| 

“You haven’t got ? ” 

Jimmy’s smile was a little hard. 

“ I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss Kent, but I j 
have got a copy,” he said, with a touch of bitter- 
ness in his tone. He walked to the bookcase at I 
one end of the room and reached down the book 
— a well-worn volume — and placed it before 
her. j 

The rebuke in his voice was deserved, she felt * 

that. I 

She turned the leaves over quickly, but inspira- 
tion seemed to have died, for there was nothing in 
the sacred volume that marshaled her struggling 
thoughts. 

“ Is it a text ? ” asked Angel. 

She shook her head. 

“ It is — something,” she said. “ That sounds 


What the Red Envelope Held 143 

vague, doesn't it? I thought if I had the book 
in my hand, it would recall everything." 

Angel was intently studying the rebus. 

“ Here's one letter, anyway. You said that, 
Jimmy? " 

‘‘The door?" said Jimmy. “Yes, that's 
fairly evident. Whatever the word is, its second 
letter is ‘ P.' You see Reale's scribbled notes? 
All these are no good, the other letters are best, I 
suppose it means; so we can cut out ‘ T,' ‘ O,' and 
‘ K.' " 

“ The best clue of all," he went on, “ is the 
notes about the ‘ professor.' You see them : 

“ ‘ Mem. : To get the professor's new book on it. 
Mem. : To do what the professor thinks right. 
Mem. : To write to professor about ' 

Now the questions are: Who is the professor, 
what is his book, and what did he advise ? Reale 
was in correspondence with him, that is certain; 
in his desire for accuracy. Reale sought his advice. 
In all these papers there is no trace of a letter, and 


1 44 Angel Esquire 

if any book exists it is still in Sped — it is still in 
the place from whence this red envelope came.” 

The two men exchanged a swift glance. 

Yes,” said Angel, as if answering the other’s 
unspoken thought, “ it might be done.” 

The girl looked from one to the other in doubt. 

Does this mean an extra risk?” she asked 
quietly. “ I have not questioned you as to how 
this red envelope came into your possession, but I 
have a feeling that it was not obtained without 
danger.” 

Angel disregarded Jimmy’s warning frown. 
He was determined that the better side of his 
strange friend’s character should be made evident 
to the girl. 

“ Jimmy faced death in a particularly unpleas- 
ant form to secure the packet. Miss Kent,” he 
said. 

‘‘ Then I forbid any further risk,” she said 
spiritedly. “ I thought I had made it clear that I 
would not accept favors at your friend’s hands; 
least of all do I want the favor of his life.” 


What the Red Envelope Held 145 

Jinimy heard her unmoved. He had a bitter 
tongue when he so willed, and he chose that 
moment. 

“ I do not think you can too strongly impress 
upon Miss Kent the fact that I am an interested 
party in this matter,’' he said acidly. “ As she 
refused my offer to forego my claim to a share of 
the fortune, she might remember that my interest 
in the legacy is at least as great as hers. I am 
risking what I risk, not so much from the beauti- 
fully quixotic motives with which she doubtless 
credits me, as from a natural desire to help my- 
self.” 

She winced a little at the bluntness of his 
speech; then recognizing she was in the wrong, 
she grew angry with herself at her indiscretion. 

‘‘If the book is — where these papers were, it 
can be secured,” Jimmy continued, regaining hie- 
suavity. “If the professor is still alive he will 
be found, and by to-morrow I shall have in my 
possession a list of every book that has ever been 
written by a professor of anything.” 


146 Angel Esquire 

Some thought tickled him, and he laughed for 
the second time that afternoon. 

There’s a fine course of reading for us all,” 
he said with a little chuckle. Heaven knows 
into what mysterious regions the literary pro- 
fessor will lead us. I know one professor who has 
written a treatise on Sociology that runs into ten 
volumes, and another who has spoken his mind 
on Inductive Logic to the extent of twelve hun- 
dred closely-printed pages. I have in my mind’s 
eye a vision of three people sitting amidst a chaos 
of thoughtful literature, searching ponderous 
tomes for esoteric references to bolts, door, 
mouth, et cetera.” 

The picture he drew was too much for the 
gravity of the girl, and her friendship with the 
man who was professedly a thief, and by infer- 
ence something worse, began with a ripple of 
laughter that greeted his sally. 

Jimmy gathered up the papers, and carefully 
replaced them in the envelope. This he handed 
to Angel. 


What the Red Envelope Held 147 

Place this amongst the archives/’ he said 
flippantly. 

Why not keep it here ? ” asked Angel in sur- 
prise. 

Jimmy walked to one of the three French 
windows that opened on to a small balcony. He. 
took a rapid survey of the street, then beckoned 
to Angel. 

“ Do you see that man ? ” He pointed to a 
lounger sauntering along on the opposite side- 
walk. 

Yes.” 

Jimmy walked back to the center of the room. 

“ That’s why,” he said simply. There will 
be a burglary here to-night or to-morrow night. 
People aren’t going to let a fortune slip through 
their fingers without making some kind of effort 
to save it.” 

What people ? ” demanded the girl. ‘‘ You 
mean those dreadful men who took me away?” 

“ That is very possible,” said Jimmy, “ al- 
though I was thinking of somebody else.” 


148 Angel Esquire 

The girl had put on her wrap, and stood ir- 
resolutely near the door, and Angel was waiting. 

‘‘ Good-by,’’ she said hesitatingly. ‘‘ I — I am 
afraid I have done you an injustice, and — ^and I 
want to thank you for all you have undergone for 
me. I know — I feel that I have been ungracious, 
and ” 

You have done me no injustice,” said Jimmy 
in a low voice. I am all that you thought I 
was — ^and worse.” 

She held out her hand to him, and he raised it 
to his lips, which was unlike Jimmy. 


CHAPTER VIII 


OLD GEORGE 

A STRANGER making a call in that portion of 
North Kensington which lies in the vicinity of 
Ladbroke Grove by some mischance lost his way. 
He wandered through many prosperous crescents 
and quiet squares redolent of the opulence of the 
upper middle classes, through broad avenues 
where neat broughams stood waiting in small car- 
riage-drives, and once he blundered into a tidy 
mews, where horsy men with great hissings made 
ready the chariots of the Notting Hill plutocracy. 
It may be that he was in no particular hurry to 
arrive at his destination, this stranger — who has 
nothing to do with the story — ^but certainly he 
did not avail himself of opportunity in the shape 
of a passing policeman, and continued his aimless 
wanderings. He found Kensington Park Road, 
a broad thoroughfare of huge gardens and walled 


149 


150 Angel Esquire 

forecourts, then turned into a side street. He 
walked about twenty paces, and found himself in 
the heart of slum-land. 

It is no ordinary slum this little patch of prop- 
erty that lies between Westbourne Grove and 
Kensington Park Road. There are no tumbled- 
down hovels or noisome passages; there are 
streets of houses dignified with flights of steps 
that rise to pretentious street doors and areas 
where long dead menials served the need of the 
lower middle classes of other days. The streets 
are given over to an army of squalling children in 
varying styles of dirtiness, and the halls of these 
houses are bare of carpet or covering, and in some 
the responsibility of leasehold is shared by eight 
or nine families, all pigging together. 

They are streets of slatternly women, who live 
at their front doors, arms rolled under discolored 
aprons, and on Saturday nights one street at least 
deserves the pithy but profane appellation which 
the police have given it — “ Little Hell.’’ 

In this particular thoroughfare it is held that of 


Old George 1 5 1 

all sins the greatest is that which is associated 
with ‘‘ spying/' A '' spy " is a fairly compre- 
hensive phrase in Cawdor Street. It may mean 
policeman, detective, school-board official, rent 
collector, or the gentleman appointed by the gas 
company to extract pennies from the slot-meters. 

To Cawdor Street came a man who rented one 
of the larger houses. To the surprise of the 
agent, he offered his rent monthly in advance; to 
the surprise of the street, he took no lodgers. It 
was the only detached house in that salubrious 
road, and was No. 49. The furniture came by 
night, which is customary amongst people who 
concentrate their last fluttering rag of pride upon 
the respectability of their household goods. Caw- 
dor Street, on the qui vive for the lady of the 
house, learns with genuine astonishment that 
there was none, and that the newcomer was a 
bachelor. 

Years ago No. 49 had been the abode of a job- 
bing builder, hence the little yard gate that flanked 
one side; and it was with satisfaction that the 


152 Angel Esquire 

Cawdor Streeters discovered that the new occu- 
pant intended reviving the ancient splendor of the 
establishment. At any rate, a board was prom- 
inently displayed, bearing the inscription: 

J. JONES, BUILDER AND CONTRACTOR. 

and the inquisitive Mr. Lane (of 76), who caught 
a momentary vision of the yard through the gate, 
observed “ Office ’’ printed in fairly large letters 
over the side door. 

At stated hours, mostly in the evening, roughly- 
dressed men called at the “ Office,’^ stayed awhile, 
and went away. Two dilapidated ladders made 
their appearance in the yard, conspicuously lifting 
their perished rungs above the gate level. 

I tried to buy an old builder’s cart and a 
wheelbarrow to-day,” said ‘‘ Mr. Jones ” to a 
workman. ‘‘I’ll probably get it to-morrow at my 
own price, and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to get a 
few sacks of lime and a couple of cartloads of 
sand and bricks in, also a few road pitchers to 
give it a finishing touch.” 


153 


Old George 

The workman grinned. 

“ You’ve got this place ready in time, Con- 
nor,” he said. 

Mr. Connor — for such ‘‘ J. Jones, Builder and 
Contractor ” was — nodded and picked his teeth 
meditatively with a match stick. 

“ I’ve seen for a long time the other place was 
useless,” he said with a curse. 

It was bad luck that Angel found us there 
last week. I’ve been fixing up this house for a 
couple of months. It’s a nice neighborhood, 
where people don’t go nosing around, and the boys 
can meet here without anybody being the wiser.” 

“ And old George?” 

“ We’ll settle him to-night,” said the other 
with a frown. “ Bat is bringing him over, and 
I want to know how he came to let Angel get 
at us.” 

Old George had always been a problem to the 
“ Borough Lot.” He held the position of trust 
that many contended no demented old man should 
hold. Was it safe or sane to trust him with the 


1 54 Angel Esquire 

plate that had been so laboriously acquired from 
Roebury House, and the jewels of Lady Ivy | 

Task-Hender, for the purloining of which one | 

Hog ” Stander was at that very moment doing i 
seven stretch? Was it wise to install him as i 
custodian of the empty house at Blackwall, 
through which Angel Esquire gained admittance 
to the meeting-place of the ''' Borough Lot '' ? 

Some there were who said Yes,’' and these 
included the powerful faction that numbered ! 
“ Bat ” Sands, “ Curt ” Goyle, and Connor 
amongst them. They contended that suspicion | 
would never rest on this half-witted old gentle- 
man, with his stuffed birds, his goldfish, caged 
rabbits and mice, a view that was supported by 
the fact that Lady Ivy’s priceless diamonds lay 
concealed for months in the false bottom of a 
hutch devoted to guinea pigs in old George’s 
strange menagerie, what time the police were 
turni- London inside out in their quest for the 
property. 

But now old George was under a cloud. Not- 


Old George 155 

withstanding the fact that he had been found 
amongst his live stock securely bound to a chair, 
with a handkerchief over his mouth, suspicion at- 
tached to him. How had Angel worked away 
in the upper room without old George's knowl- 
edge? 

Angel might have easily explained. Indeed, 
Angel might have relieved their minds to a very 
large extent in regard to old George, for in mark- 
ing down the haunt of the “ Borough Lot " he 
had been entirely deceived as to the part played 
by the old man who acted as “ caretaker " to the 

empty " house. 

In a fourwheeled cab old George, smiling fool- 
ishly and passing his hand from time to time 
over his tremulous mouth, listened to the admoni- 
tions of Mr. Bat Sands. 

“ Connor wants to know all about it," said Bat 
menacingly; and if you have been playing tricks, 
old man, the Lord help you." 

“ The Lord help me," smiled old George com- 
placently. 


156 Angel Esquire 

He ran his dirty fingers through his few scanty 
white locks, and the smile died out of his face, 
and his loose mouth dropped pathetically. 

‘‘Mr. Sands,” he said, then stopped; then he 
repeated the name to himself a dozen times; then 
he rubbed his head again. 

Bat, leaning forward to catch what might be a 
confession, sank back again in his seat and swore 
softly. 

In the house of “ J. Jones, Builder and Con- 
tractor,” were gathered in strength the men who 
composed the “ Borough Lot.” 

“ Suppose he gave us away,” asked Goyle, 
“ what shall we do with him ? ” 

There was little doubt as to the feeling of the 
meeting. A low animal growl, startling in its 
ferocity, ran through the gathering. 

“If he’s given us away ” — it was Vinnis with 
his dull fishlike eyes turned upon Connor who 
was talking — “ why, we must ‘ out ’ him.” 

“ You’re talking like a fool,” said Connor con- 
temptuously. “If he has given us away, you 


Old George 157 

may rest assured that he is no sooner in this house 
than the whole place will be surrounded by police. 
If Angel knows old George is one of us, he’ll be 
watched day and night, and the cab that brings 
him will be followed by another bringing Angel. 
No, I’ll stake my life on the old man. But I 
want to know how Mr. Cursed Angel got into the 
house next door.” 

They had not long to wait, for Bat’s knock 
came almost as Connor finished speaking. 

Half led, half dragged into the room, old 
George stood, fumbling his hat in his hand, smil- 
ing helplessly at the dark faces that met his. He 
muttered something under his breath. 

“ What’s that ? ” asked Connor sharply. 

I said, a gentleman ” began old George, 

then lapsed into silence. 

What gentleman ? ” asked Connor roughly. 

'' I am speaking of myself,” said the old man, 
and there came into his face a curious expression 
of dignity. ‘‘ I say, and I maintain, that a gen- 
tleman is a gentleman whatever company he 


158 Angel Esquire 

affects. At my old college I once reproved an 
undergraduate.’’ He was speaking with stately, 
almost pompous distinctness. “ I said, ‘ There is 
an axiom to which I would refer you, De gustibus 
non est disputandum, and — and ’ ” 

His shaking fingers went up again to the tell- 
tale mouth, and the vacant smile came back. 

‘‘ Look here,” said Connor, shaking his arm, 
‘‘ we don’t want to know anything about your 
damned college ; we want to know how Angel got 
into our crib.” 

The old man looked puzzled. 

'' Yes, yes,” he muttered; “ of course, Mr. Con- 
nor, you have been most kind — ^the crib — ah! — 
the young man who wanted to rent or hire the 
room upstairs.” 

‘‘ Yes, yes,” said Connor eagerly. 

“ A most admirable young man,” old George 
rambled on, “ but very inquisitive. I remember 
once, when I was addressing a large congregation 
of young men at Cheltenham — or it may have 
been young ladies — I ” 


Old George 159 

“ Curse the man ! ’’ cried Goyle in a fury. 

Make him answer, or stop his mouth.” 

Connor warned him back. 

‘‘ Let him talk in his own way,” he said. 

This admirable person,” the old man went on, 
happily striking on the subject again, ‘‘ desired 
information that I was not disposed to give, Mr. 
Connor, remembering your many kindnesses, par- 
ticularly in respect to one Mr. Vinnis.” 

“ Yes, go on,” urged Connor, and the face of 
Vinnis was tense. 

‘‘ I fear there are times when my usually active 
mind takes on a sluggishness which is foreign 
to my character — my normal character ” — old 
George was again the pedant — ‘‘ when the un- 
observant stranger might be deceived into regard- 
ing me as a negligible quantity. The admirable 
young man so far treated me as such as to re- 
mark to his companion that there was a rope 
— ^yes, distinctly a rope — for the said Mr. 
Vinnis.” 

The face of Vinnis was livid. 


i6o Angel Esquire 

“ And/' asked Connor, ‘‘ what happened next ? 
There were two of them, were there ? " 

The old man nodded gravely; he nodded a 
number of times, as though the exercise pleased 
him. 

“ The other young man — not the amiable one, 
but another — upon finding that I could not rent 
or hire the rooms — as indeed I could not, Mr. 
Connor, without your permission — engaged me 
in conversation — very loudly he spoke, too — on 
the relative values of cabbage and carrot as food 
for herbaceous mammals. Where the amiable 

gentleman was at that moment I cannot say " 

“ I can guess," thought Connor. 

‘‘ I can remember the occasion well," old 
George continued, ‘‘ because that night I was 
alarmed and startled by strange noises from the 
empty rooms upstairs, which I very naturally and 

properly concluded were caused " 

He stopped, and glancing fearfully about the 
room, went on in a lower tone. 

“ By certain spirits," he whispered mysteri- 


Old George 1 6 1 

ously, and pointed and leered first at one and then 
another of the occupants of the room. 

There was something very eerie in the per- 
formance of the strange old man with the queerly- 
working face, and more than one hardened crim- 
inal present shivered a little. 

Connor broke the silence that fell on the 
room. 

So that’s how it was done, eh ? One held 
you in conversation while the other got upstairs 
and hid himself? Well, boys, you’ve heard the 
old man. What d’ye say? ” 

Vinnis shifted in his seat and turned his great 
unemotional face to where the old man stood, still 
fumbling with his hat and muttering to himself 
beneath his breath; in some strange region 
whither his poor wandering mind had taken him 
he was holding a conversation with an imaginary 
person. Connor could see his eyebrows work- 
ing, and caught scraps of sentences, now in some 
strange dead tongue, now in the stilted English 
of the schoolmaster. 


1 62 Angel Esquire 

It was Vinnis who spoke for the assembled 
company. 

The old man knows a darned sight too much/’ 

he said in his level tone. I’m for ” 

He did not finish his sentence. Connor took a 
swift survey of the men. 

If there is any man here/’ he said slowly, 
“ who wants to wake up at seven o’clock in the 
morning and meet a gentleman who will strap 
his hands behind him and a person who will pray 
over him — if there’s any man here that wants a 
short walk after breakfast between two lines of 
warders to a little shed where a brand new rope is 
hanging from the roof, he’s at liberty to do what 
he likes with old George, but not in this house.” 
He fixed his eyes on Vinnis. 

And if there’s any man here,” he went on, 
who’s already in the shadow of the rope, so that 
one or two murders more won’t make much dif- 
ference one way or the other, he can do as he 
likes — outside this house.” 

Vinnis shrank back. 


Old George 163 

There’s nothing against me,” he growled. 

‘‘ The rope,” muttered the old man, “ Vinnis 
for the rope,” he chuckled to himself. I fear 
they counted too implicitly upon the fact that I 
am not always quite myself — ^Vinnis ” 

The man he spoke of sprang to his feet with a 
snarl like a trapped beast. 

Sit down — ^you.” 

Bat Sands, with his red head close cropped, 
thrust his chair in the direction of the infuriated 
Vinnis. 

What Connor says is true — we’re not going 
to croak the old man, and we’re not going to 
croak ourselves. If we hang, it will be some- 
thing worth hanging for. As to the old man, he’s 
soft, an’ that’s all you can say. He’s got to be 
kept close ” 

A rap at the door cut him short. 

“ Who’s that ? ” he whispered. 

Connor tiptoed to the locked door. 

Who’s there ? ” he demanded. 

A familiar voice reassured him, and he opened 


1 64 Angel Esquire 

the door and held a conversation in a low voice 
with somebody outside. 

There’s a man who wants to see me,” he said 
in explanation. Lock the door after I leave, 
Bat,” and he went out quickly. 

Not a word was spoken, but each after his own 
fashion of reasoning drew some conclusion from 
Connor’s hasty departure. 

A full meetin’,” croaked a voice from the 
back of the room. We’re all asked here by 
Connor. Is it a plant ? ” 

That was Bat’s thought too. 

‘‘No,” he said; “there’s nothin’ against us. 
Why, Angel let us off only last week because there 
wasn’t evidence, an’ Connor’s straight.” 

“ I don’t trust him, by God ! ” said Vinnis. 

“ I trust nobody,” said Bat doggedly, “ but 

Connor’s straight ” 

There was a rap on the door. 

“ Who’s there? ” 

“ All right ! ” said the muffled voice. 

Bat unlocked the door, and Connor came in. 


Old George 165 

What he had seen or what he had heard had 
brought about a marvelous change in his appear- 
ance — his cheeks were a dull red, and his eyes 
blazed with triumph. 

“ Boys,’^ he said, and they caught the infectious 
thrill in his voice, ‘‘ Fve got the biggest thing for 
you — a million pounds, share and share alike. ’’ 

He felt rather than heard the excitement his 
words caused. He stood with his back to the 
half -opened door. 

‘‘ I’m going to introduce a new pal,” he rattled 
on breathlessly. I’ll vouch for him.” 

‘‘ Who is he ? ” asked Bat. Do we know 
him?” 

“ No,” said Connor, ‘‘ and you’re not expected 
to know him. But he’s putting up the money, 
and that’s good enough for you. Bat — a hundred 
pounds a man, and it will be paid to-night.” 

Bat Sands spat on his hand. 

‘‘ Bring him in. He’s good enough,” and there 
was a murmur of approval. 

Connor disappeared for a moment, and re- 


1 66 Angel Esquire 

turned followed by a well-dressed stranger, who 
met the questioning glances of his audience with 
a quiet smile. His eyes swept over every face. 
They rested for a moment on Vinnis, they looked 
doubtfully at old George, who, seated on a chair 
with crossed legs and his head bent, was talking 
with great rapidity in an undertone to himself. 

‘‘ Gentlemen,” said the stranger, ‘‘ I have come 
with the object of gaining your help. Mr. Connor 
has told me that he has already informed you 
about Reale's millions. Briefly, I have decided 
to forestall other people, and secure the money 
for myself. I offer you a half share of the 
money, to be equally divided amongst you, and as 
an earnest of my intention, I am paying each man 
who is willing to help me a hundred pounds 
down.” 

He drew from one of his pockets a thick pack- 
age of notes, and from two other pockets similar 
bundles. He handed them to Connor, and the 
hungry eyes of the ‘‘ Borough Lot '' focused 
upon the crinkling paper. 


Old George 167 

“What I shall ask you to do/* the stranger 
proceeded, “ I shall tell you later ** 

“ Wait a bit,** interrupted Bat. “ Who else is 
in this ? ** 

“We alone,** replied the man. 

“ Is Jimmy in it?** 

“ No.** 

“ Is Angel in it?’* 

“ No ** (impatiently). 

“ Go on,** said Bat, satisfied. 

“ The money is in a safe that can only be 
opened by a word. That word nobody knows — 
so far. The clue to the word was stolen a few 
nights ago from the lawyer in charge of the case 
by — ^Jimmy.** 

He paused to note the effect of his words. 

“ Jimmy has passed the clue on to Scotland 
Yard, and we cannot hope to get it.” 

“Well?** demanded Bat. 

“ What we can do,** the other went on, “ is to 
open the safe with something more powerful than 
a word.** 


1 68 Angel Esquire 

“ But the guard ! ” said Bat. “ There’s an 
armed guard kept there by the lawyer.” 

We can arrange about the guard,” said the 
other. 

Why not get at the lawyer ? ” It was Curt 
Goyle who made the suggestion. 

The stranger frowned. 

The lawyer cannot be got at,” he said shortly. 

Now, are you with me?” 

There was no need to ask. Connor was sort- 
ing the notes into little bundles on the table, and 
the men came up one by one, took their money, 
and after a few words with Connor took 
their leave, with an awkward salutation to the 
stranger. 

Bat was the last to go. 

‘‘ To-morrow night — here,” muttered Connor. 

He was left alone with the newcomer, save for 
the old man, who hadn’t changed his attitude, and 
was still in the midst of some imaginary conver- 
sation. 

Who is this? ” the stranger demanded. 


Old George 


169 


Connor smiled. 

“ An old chap as mad as a March hare. A 
gentleman, too, and a scholar; talks all sorts of 
mad languages — Latin and Greek and the Lord 
knows what. He’s been a schoolmaster, I should 
say, and what brought him down to this — drink 
or drugs or just ordinary madness — I don’t 
know.” 

The stranger looked with interest at the uncon- 
scious man, and old George, as if suddenly realiz- 
ing that he was under scrutiny, woke up with a 
start and sat blinking at the other. Then he 
shuffled slowly to his feet and peered closely into 
the stranger’s face, all the time sustaining his 
mumbled conversation. 

Ah,” he said in a voice rising from its in- 
audibility, “ a gentleman ! Pleased to meet you, 
sir, pleased to meet you. Omnia mutantur, nos 
et mutamur in illis, but you have not changed.” 

He relapsed again into mutterings. 

“ I have never met him before,” the stranger 
said, turning to Connor. 


1 70 Angel Esquire 

“ Oh, old George always thinks he has met 
people,” said Connor with a grin. 

“ A gentleman,” old George muttered, ‘‘ every 
inch a gentleman, and a munificent patron. He 
bought a copy of my book — you have read it? 
It is called — dear me, I have forgotten what it is 
called — and sent to consult me in his — ah ! — ana- 
gram ” 

What ? ” The stranger’s face was ashen, 
and he gripped Connor by the arm. ‘‘ Listen, 
listen ! ” he whispered fiercely. 

Old George threw up his head again and stared 
blandly at the stranger. 

“ A perfect gentleman,” he said with pathetic 
insolence, “ invariably addressing me as the ‘ pro- 
fessor ’ — a most delicate and gentlemanly thing 
to do.” 

He pointed a triumphant finger to the stranger. 

“ I know you ! ” he cried shrilly, and his 
cracked laugh rang through the room. “ Sped- 
ding, that’s your name! Lawyer, too. I saw 
you in the carriage of my patron.” 


Old George 171 

“ The book, the book ! ” gasped Spedding. 
What was the name of your book? '' 

Old George’s voice had dropped to its normal 
level when he replied with extravagant courtesy — 
“ That is the one thing, sir, I can never re- 
member.” 


CHAPTER IX 


THE GREAT ATTEMPT 

There are supercilious critics who sneer at 
Scotland Yard. They are quite unofficial critics, 
of course, writers of stories wherein figure ama- 
teur detectives of abnormal perspicuity, unravel- 
ing mysteries with consummate ease which have 
baffled the police for years. As a matter of fact, ' 
Scotland Yard stands for the finest police organ- 
ization in the world. People who speak glibly 
of ‘‘ police blunders might remember one curious j 
fact: in this last quarter of a century only one ' 
man has ever stood in the dock at the Old Bailey j 
under the capital charge who has escaped the [ 
dread sentence of the law. i 

Scotland Yard is patiently slow and terribly ^ 

I 

sure. 

Angel in his little room received a letter written j 
in a sprawling, uneducated hand; it was incoher- 


172 


The Great Attempt 173 

cnt and stained with tears and underlined from 
end to end. He read it through and examined 
the date stamp, then rang his bell. 

The messenger who answered him found him 
examining a map of London. “ Go to the 
Record Office, and get E.B. 93,’' he said, and in 
five minutes the messenger came back with a thick 
folder bulging with papers. 

There were newspaper cuttings and plans and 
dreadful photographs, the like of which the out- 
side world do not see, and there was a little key 
ticketed with an inscription. Angel looked 
through the dossier carefully, then read the 
woman’s letter again. . . . 

Vinnis, the man with the dead-white face, fin- 
ishing his late breakfast, and with the pleasurable 
rustle of new banknotes in his trouser pocket, 
strolled forth into Commercial Road, E. An 
acquaintance leaning against a public-house gave 
him a curt nod of recognition; a bedraggled girl 
hurrying homeward with her man’s breakfast in 
her apron shrank on one sicje, knowing Vinnis to 


1 74 Angel Esquire 

her sorrow; a stray cur cringed up to him, as he 
stood for a moment at the edge of the road, and 
was kicked for its pains. 

Vinnis was entirely without sentiment, and 
besides, even though the money in his pocket 
compensated for most things, the memory 
of old George and his babbling talk worried 
him. 

Somebody on the other side of the road at- 
tracted his attention. It was a woman, and he 
knew her very well, therefore he ignored her 
beckoning hand. Two days ago he had occasion 
to reprove her, and he had seized the opportunity 
to summarily dissolve the informal union that 
had kept them together for five years. So he 
made no sign when the woman with the bruised 
face called him, but turned abruptly and walked 
towards Aldgate. 

He did not look round, but by and by he heard 
the patter of her feet behind, and once his name 
called hoarsely. He struck off into a side street 
with a raging devil inside him, then when they 


The Great Attempt 175 

reached an unfrequented part of the road he 
turned on her. 

She saw the demon in his eyes, and tried to 
speak. She was a penitent woman at that mo- 
ment, and hysterically ripe for confession, but the 
savage menace of the man froze her lips. 

“ So,” he said, his thin mouth askew, “ so after 
what Fve said an' what Fve done you follow me, 
do you. Showing me up in the street, eh ! ” 

He edged closer to her, his fist doubled, and 
she, poor drab, fascinated by the snakelike glare 
of his dull eyes, stood rooted to the spot. Then 
with a snarl he struck her — once, twice — and she 
fell a huddled, moaning heap on the pavement. 

You may do things in Commercial Road, E., 
after “ lighting-up time ” that are not permissible 
in the broad light of the day, unless it be Satur- 
day, and the few people who had been attracted 
by the promise of a row were indignant but pas- 
sive, after the manner of all London crowds. Not 
so one quiet, middle-aged man, who confronted 
Vinnis as he began to walk away. 


1 76 Angel Esquire 

That was a particularly brutal thing to do,” 
said the quiet man. 

Vinnis measured him with his eye, and decided 
that this was not a man to be trifled with. 

“ Tve got nothing to say to you,” he said 
roughly, and tried to push past, but an iron grip 
was on his arm. 

Wait a moment, my friend,” said the other 
steadily, ‘‘not so fast; you cannot commit a 
brutal assault in the open street like that without 
punishment. I must ask you to walk with me to 
the station.” 

“ Suppose I won’t go ? ” demanded Vinnis. 

“ I shall take you,” said the other. “ I am 
Detective-Sergeant Jarvis from Scotland Yard.” 

Vinnis thought rapidly. There wasn’t much 
chance of escape; the street they were in was a 
cul-de-sac, and at the open end two policemen had 
made their appearance. After all, a “ wife ” as- 
sault was not a serious business, and the woman — 
well, she would swear it was an accident. He 
resolved to go quietly; at the worst it would be a 


The Great Attempt 177 

month, so with a shrug of his shoulders he ac- 
companied the detective. A small crowd followed 
them to the station. 

In the little steel dock he stood in his stockinged 
feet whilst a deft jailer ran his hands over him. 
With a stifled oath, he remembered the money in 
his possession; it was only ten pounds, for he had 
secreted the other, but ten pounds is a lot of 
money to be found on a person of his class, and 
generally leads to embarrassing inquiries. To 
his astonishment, the jailer who relieved him of 
the notes seemed in no whit surprised, and the in- 
spector at the desk took the discovery as a matter 
of course. Vinnis remarked on the surprising 
number of constables there were on duty in the 
charge room. Then — 

What is the charge ? ’’ asked the inspector, 
dipping his pen. 

“ Wilful murder ! ” said a voice, and Angel 
Esquire crossed the room from the inspector’s 
oflice. “ I charge this man with having on the 
night of the 17th of February . . 


178 Angel Esquire 

Vinnis, dumb with terror and rage, listened to 
the crisp tones of the detective as he detailed the 
particulars of an almost forgotten crime. It was 
the story of a country house burglary, a man- 
servant who surprised the thief, a fight in the 
dark, a shot and a dead man lying in the big 
drawing-room. It was an ordinary little tragedy, 
forgotten by everybody save Scotland Yard; but 
year by year unknown men had pieced together 
the scraps of evidence that had come to them; 
strand by strand had the rope been woven that 
was to hang a cold-blooded murderer; last of all 
came the incoherent letter from a jealous woman 
— Scotland Yard waits always for a jealous 
woman — and the evidence was complete. 

'' Put him in No. 14,” said the inspector. Then 
Vinnis woke up, and the six men on duty in the 
charge room found their time fully occupied. 

Vinnis was arrested, as Angel Esquire put it, 

in the ordinary way of business.” Hundreds of 
little things happen daily at Scotland Yard in the 


The Great Attempt 179 

ordinary way of business which, apparently un- 
connected one with the other, have an extraor- 
dinary knack of being in some remote fashion 
related. A burglary at Clapham was remarkable 
for the fact that a cumbersome mechanical toy 
was carried away in addition to other booty. A 
street accident in the Kingsland Road led to the 
arrest of a drunken carman. In the excitement 
of the moment a sneak-thief purloined a parcel 
from the van, was chased and captured. A weep- 
ing wife at the police station gave him a good 
character as husband and father. ‘‘ Only last 
week he brought my boy a fine performin’ 
donkey.” An alert detective went home with her, 
recognized the mechanical toy from the descrip- 
tion, and laid by the heels the notorious “ Kings- 
land Road Lot.” 

The arrest of Vinnis was totally unconnected 
with Angel’s investigations into the mystery of 
Reale’s millions. He knew him as a “ Borough 
man,” but did not associate him with the search 
for the word. 


i8o Angel Esquire 

None the less, there arc certain formalities at- 
tached to the arrest of all bad criminals. Angel 
Esquire placed one or two minor matters in the 
hands of subordinates, and in two days one of 
these waited upon him in his office. 

The notes, sir,” said the man, were issued 
to Mr. Spedding on his private account last Mon- 
day morning. Mr. Spedding is a lawyer, of the 
firm of Spedding, Mortimer and Larach.” 

Have you seen Mr. Spedding? ” he asked. 

Yes, sir. Mr. Spedding remembers drawing 
the money and paying it away to a gentleman who 
was sailing to America.” 

‘‘A client?” 

“ So far as I can gather,” said the subordinate, 
“ the money was paid on behalf of a client for 
services. Mr. Spedding would not particu- 
larize.” 

Angel Esquire made a little grimace. 

“ Lawyers certainly do queer things,” he said 
dryly. 

“ Does Mr. Spedding offer any suggestion as 


The Great Attempt i8i 

to how the money came into this man's posses- 
sion ? " 

“ No, sir. He thinks he might have obtained 
it quite honestly. I understand that the man 
who received the money was a shady sort of 
customer." 

So I should imagine," said Angel Esquire. 

Left alone, he sat in deep thought drawing 
faces on his blotting-pad. 

Then he touched a bell. 

“ Send Mr. Carter to me," he directed, and in 
a few minutes a bright- faced youth, fingering an 
elementary mustache, was awaiting his orders. 

‘‘ Carter," said Angel cautiously, ‘‘ it must be 
very dull work in the finger-print department." 

I don’t know, sir," said the other, a fairly 
enthusiastic ethnologist, ‘‘ we’ve got " 

“ Carter," said Angel more cautiously still, 
“ are you on for a lark? " 

“ Like a bird, sir," said Carter, unconsciously 
humorous. 

‘‘ I want a dozen men, the sort of men who 


1 82 Angel Esquire 

won’t talk to reporters, and will remain ' unoffi- 
cial ’ so long as I want them to be,” said Angel, 
and he unfolded his plan. 

When the younger man had gone Angel drew a 
triangle on the blotting-pad. 

‘‘ Spedding is in with the ‘ Borough Lot,’ ” he 
put a cross against one angle. ‘‘ Spedding knows 
I know,” he put a cross at the apex. I know 
that Spedding knows I know,” he marked the 
remaining angl j ‘‘It’s Spedding’s move, and 
he’ll move damn quick.” 

The Assistant Commissioner came into the 
room at that moment. 

“ Hullo, Angel ! ” he said, glancing at the fig- 
ures on the pad. “ What’s this, a new game? ” 

“ It’s an old game,” said Angel truthfully, “ but 
played in an entirely new way.” 

Angel was not far wrong when he surmised 
that Spedding’s move would be immediate, and 
although the detective had reckoned without an 
unknown factor, in the person of old George, yet 


The Great Attempt 183 

a variety of circumstances combined to precipitate 
the act that Angel anticipated. 

Not least of these* was the arrest of Vinnis. 
After his interview with old George, Spedding 
had decided on a waiting policy. The old man 
had been taken to the house at Clapham. Sped- 
ding had been prepared to wait patiently until 
some freak of mind brought back the memory to 
the form of cryptogram he had advised. A dozen 
times a day he asked the old man — 

‘‘ What is your name ? ’’ 

“ Old George, only old George,” was the in- 
variable reply, with many grins and noddings. 

“ But your real name, the name you had when 
you were a — professor.” 

But this would only start the old man off on a 
rambling reminiscence of his munificent pa- 
tron.” 

Connor came secretly to Clapham for orders. 
It was the night after Vinnis had been arrested. 

‘‘ WeVe got to move at once, Mr. Connor,” 
said the lawyer. Connor sat in the chair that 


1 84 Angel Esquire 

had held Jimmy a few nights previous. ‘‘ It is 
no use waiting for the old man to talk, the earlier 
plan was best.’' 

Has anything happened ? ” asked Connor. 
His one-time awe of the lawyer had merged in the 
familiarity of conspiratorship. 

'' There was a detective at my office to-day 
inquiring about some notes that were found 
on Vinnis. Angel Esquire will draw his 
own conclusions, and we have no time to 
lose.” 

We are ready,” said Connor. 

Then let it be to-morrow night. I will with- 
draw the guard of commissionaires at the safe. I 
can easily justify myself afterwards.” 

An idea struck Connor. 

“ Why not send another lot of men to relieve 
them? I can fix up some of the boys so that 
they’ll look like commissionaires.” 

Spedding’s eyes narrowed. 

Yes,” he said slowly, it could be arranged — 
an excellent idea.” 


The Great Attempt 185 

He paced the room with long, swinging strides, 
his forehead puckered. 

“ There are two reliefs,” he said, one in the 
morning and one in the evening. I could send a 
note to the sergeant of the morning relief telling 
him that I had arranged for a new set of night 
men — I have changed them twice already, one 
cannot be too careful — and I could give you the 
necessary authority to take over charge.” 

“ Better still,” said Connor, ‘‘ instruct him to 
withdraw, leaving the place empty, then our ar- 
rival will attract no notice. Lombard Street 
: must be used to the commissionaires going on 
^ guard.” 

“ That is an idea,” said Spedding, and sat down 
i to write the letter. 

The night of the great project turned out mis- 
erably wet. 

‘‘ So much the better,” muttered Connor, view- 
ing the world from his Kensington fastness. The 
room dedicated to the use of the master of the 


1 86 Angel Esquire 

house was plainly furnished, and on the bare deal 
table Connor had set his whisky down whilst he 
peered through the rain-blurred windows at the 
streaming streets. 

England for work and Egypt for pleasure,'' 
he muttered; “and if I get my share of the 
money, and it will be a bigger share than my 
friend Spedding imagines, it’s little this cursed 
country will see of Mr. Patrick Connor." 

He drained off his whisky at a gulp, rubbed i 
the steam from the windows, and looked down , 
into the deserted street. Two men were walking j 
toward the house. One, well covered by a heavy 
mackintosh cloak, moved with a long stride; the ; 
other, wrapped in a new overcoat, shuffled by his 
side, quickening his steps to keep up with his ^ 
more energetic companion. I 

“ Spedding,” said Connor, “ and old George. : 
What is he bringing him here for ? " ' 

He hurried downstairs to let them in. , 

“Well?" asked Spedding, throwing his reek- 
ing coat off. I 


The Great Attempt 187 

Airs ready,” answered Connor. “ Why 
have you brought the old man ? ” 

Oh, for company,” the lawyer answered care- 
lessly. V 

If the truth be told, Spedding still hoped that 
the old man would remember. That day old 
George had been exceedingly garrulous, almost 
lucidly so at times. Mr. Spedding still held on 
to the faint hope that the old man's revelations 
would obviate the necessity for employing the 
‘‘ Borough Lot,” and what was more impor- 
tant, for sharing the contents of the safe with 
them. 

As to this latter part of the program, Mr. 
Spedding had plans which would have astonished 
Connor had he but known. 

But old George's loquacity stopped short at the 
all-important point of instructing the lawyer on 
the question of the cryptogram. He had brought 
him along in the hope that at the eleventh hour 
the old man would reveal his identity. 

Unconscious of the responsibility that lay upon 


1 88 Angel Esquire 

his foolish head, the old man sat in the upstairs 
room communing with himself. 

‘‘We will leave him here,’’ said the lawyer, “ he 
will be safe.” 

• “ Safe^enough. I know him of old. He’ll sit 
here for hours amusing himself.” 

“And now, what about the men?” asked the 
lawyer. “ Where do we meet them ? ” 

“ We shall pick them up at the corner of Lom- 
bard Street, and they’ll follow me to the Safe 
Deposit.” 

“ Ah!” 

They turned swiftly on old George, who with 
his chin raised and with face alert was staring 
at them. 

“ Safe Deposit, Lombard Street,” he mumbled. 
“ And a most excellent plan too — a most excellent 
plan.” 

The two men held their breath. 

“'And quite an ingenious idea, sir. Did you 
say Lombard Street — a safe ? ” he muttered. “ A 
safe with a word ? And how to conceal the word. 


The Great Attempt 189 

that’s the question. I am a man of lonor, you 
may trust me.” He made a sweep ng bow to 
some invisible presence. “ Why not conceal your 
word thus ? ” 

Old George stabbed the palm of his hand with 
a grimy forefinger. 

'' Why not ? Have you read my book ? It is 
only a little book, but useful, sir, remarkably use- 
ful. The drawings and the signs are most ac- 
curate. An eminent gentleman at the British 
Museum assisted me in its preparation. It is 

called — it is called ” He passed his hand 

wearily over his head, and slid down into his 
chair again, a miserable old man muttering 
foolishly. 

Spedding wiped the perspiration from his fore- 
head. 

Nearly, nearly ! ” he said huskily. By 
Heavens! he nearly told us.” 

Connor looked at him with suspicion. 

“ What’s all this about the book ? ” he de- 
manded. “ This is the second time old George 


1 90 Angel Esquire 

has spokei like this. It’s to do with old Reale, 
isn’t it?” 

Speddiiig nodded. 

Come,” said Connor, looking at his watch, 
“ it’s time we were moving. We’ll leave the old 
man to look after the house. Here, George.” 

Old George looked up. 

“ You’ll stay here, and not leave till we return. 
D’ye hear ? ” 

‘‘ I hear, Mr. Connor, sir,” said old George, 
with his curious assumption of dignity, “ and 
hearing, obey.” 

As the two men turned into the night the rain 
pelted down and a gusty northwesterly wind blew 
into their faces. 

‘‘ George,” said Connor, answering a question, 

oh, we’ve had him for years. One of the boys 
found him wandering about Limehouse with 
hardly any clothes to his back, and brought him 
to us. That was before I knew the ‘ Borough 
Lot,’ but they used him as a blind. He was 
worth the money it cost to keep him in food.” 


The Great Attempt 191 

Spedding kept the other waiting whilst he dis- 
patched a long telegram from the Westboume 
Grove Post Office. It was addressed to the 
master of the Polecat lying at Cardiff, and was 
reasonably unintelligible to the clerk. 

They found a hansom at the corner of Queen’s 
Road, and drove to the Bank; here they alighted 
and crossed to the Royal Exchange. Some men 
in uniform overcoats who were standing about 
exchanged glances with Connor, and as the two 
leaders doubled back to Lombard Street, followed 
them at a distance. 

The guard left at four o’clock,” said Sped- 
ding, fitting the key of the heavy outer door. He 
waited a few minutes in the inky black darkness 
of the vestibule whilst Connor admitted the six 
uniformed men who had followed them. 

Are we all here ? ” said Connor in a low 
voice. ‘'Bat? Here! Goyle? Here! Lamby? 
Here!” 

One by one he called them by their names and 
they answered. 


192 Angel Esquire 

We may as well have a light/' said Spedding, 
and felt for the switch. 

The gleam of the electric lamps showed Sped- 
ding as pure a collection of scoundrels as ever 
disgraced the uniform of a gallant corps. 

Now," said Spedding in level tones, are all 
the necessary tools here ? " 

Bat's grin was the answer. 

‘‘ If we can get an electric connection," he said, 
“ we'll burn out the lock of the safe in half " 

Spedding had walked to the inner door that 
led to the great hall, and was fumbling with the 
keys. Suddenly he started back. 

Hark ! " he whispered. I heard a step in 
the hall." 

Connor listened. 

“ I hear nothing," he began, when the inner 
door was thrown open, and a commissionaire, re- 
volver in hand, stepped out. 

Stand ! " he cried. Then, recognizing Sped- 
ding, dropped the muzzle of his pistol. 

White with rage, Spedding stood amidst his 


The Great Attempt 193 

ill-assorted bodyguard. In the searching white 
light of the electric lamps there was no mistaking 
their character. He saw the commissionaire eying 
them curiously. 

I understood,” he said slowly, that the 
guard had been relieved.” 

No, sir,” said the man, and the cluster of 
uniformed men at the door of the inner hall con- 
firmed this. 

‘‘ I sent orders this afternoon,” said Spedding 

» 

between his teeth. 

“No orders have been received, sir,” and the 
lawyer saw the scrutinizing eye of the soldierly 
sentry pass over his confederates. 

“ Is this the relief ? ” asked the guard, not at- 
tempting to conceal the contempt in his tone. 

“ Yes,” said the lawyer. 

As the sentry saluted and disappeared into the 
hall Spedding drew Connor aside. 

“ This is ruin,” he said quickly. “ The safe 
must be cleared to-night. To-morrow London 
will not hold me.” 


1 94 Angel Esquire 

The sentry reappeared at the doorway and 
beckoned them in. They shuffled into the great 
hall, where in the half darkness the safe loomed 
up from its rocky pedestal, an eerie, mysterious 
thing. He saw Bat Sands glancing uncomfort- 
ably around the dim spaces of the building, and 
felt the impression of the loneliness. 

A man who wore the stripes of a sergeant came 
up. 

Are we to withdraw, sir ? ” he asked. 

‘‘ Yes,’' said Spedding shortly. 

Will you give us a written order?” asked 
the man. 

Spedding hesitated, then drew out a pocket- 
book and wrote a few hasty words on a sheet, 
tore it out, and handed it to the man. 

The sergeant looked at it carefully. 

‘‘ You haven’t signed it or dated it either,” he 
said respectfully, and handed it back. 

Spedding cursed him under his breath and rec- 
tified the omissions. 

‘‘ Now you may go.” 


The Great Attempt 195 

In the half-light, for only one solitary electro- 
lier illuminated the vast hall, he thought the man 
was smiling. It might have been a trick of the 
shadows, for he could not see his face. 

And am I to leave you alone? ’’ said the ser- 
geant. 

Yes.’^ 

Is it safe ? the non-commissioned officer 
asked quietly. 

Curse you, what do you mean ? ’’ cried the 
lawyer. 

Well,’' said the other easily, “ I see you have 
Connor with you, a notorious thief and black- 
mailer.” 

The lawyer was dumb. 

And Bat Sands. How d’ye do. Bat ? How 
did they treat you in Borstal, or was it Park- 
hurst ? ” drawled the sergeant. And there’s 
the gentle Lamby trying hard to look military in 
an overcoat too large for him. That’s not 
the uniform you’re used to wearing, Lamby, 
eh?” 


196 Angel Esquire 

From the group of men at the door came a 
genuinely amused laugh. 

Guard the outer door, one of you chaps,” 
said the sergeant, and turning again to Spedding’s 
men, Here we have our respected friend Curt 
Goyle.” 

He stooped and picked up a bag that Bat had 
placed gingerly on the floor. 

What a bag of tricks,” the sergeant cooed, 

** diamond bits and dynamite cartridges and — | 
what’s this little thing. Bat — an ark? It is. By j 
Jove, I congratulate you on the swag.” j 

Spedding had recovered his nerve and strode 
forward. He was playing for the greatest stake I 
in the world. 

You shall be punished for this insolence,” he 
stormed. i 

Not at all,” said the imperturbable sergeant. 

Somebody at the door spoke. 

Here’s another one, sergeant,” and pushed a 
queer old figure into the hall, a figure that blinked 
and peered from face to face. ! 


The Great Attempt 197 

He espied Spedding, and ran up to him almost 
fawning. 

The Safe Deposit — in Lombard Street/’ he 
cackled joyously. ‘‘You see, I remembered, dear 
friend; and IVe come to tell you about the book 
— my book, you know. My munificent patron 

who desired a puzzle word ” 

The sergeant started forward. 

“ My God ! ” he cried, “ the professor.” 

“ Yes, yes,” chuckled the old man, “ that’s 
what he called me. He bought a copy of my 
book — two sovereigns, four sovereigns he gave 
me. The book — what was it called ? ” 

The old man paused and clasped both hands to 
his head. 

A Study — a Study he said painfully, “ on 
the Origin of — the Alphabet. Ah ! ” 

Another of the commissionaires had come for- 
ward as the old man began speaking, and to him 
the sergeant turned. 

“ Make a note of that, Jimmy,” the sergeant 
said. 


198' An gel Esquire 

Spedding reeled back as though he had been 
struck. 

“ Angel ! ” he gasped. 

‘‘ That's me," was the ungrammatical reply. 

Crushed, cowed, beaten and powerless. Sped- | 
ding awaited judgment. What form it would | 
take he could not guess, that it would effectively 
ruin him he did not doubt. The trusted lawyer 
stood self-condemned; there was no explaining 
away his companions, there could be no mistaking 
the meaning of their presence. ! 

Send your men away," said Angel. j 

A wild hope seized the lawyer. The men were 
not to be arrested, there was a chance for him. ! 

The “ Borough Lot " needed no second order- 
ing; they trooped through the doorway, anxious .| 
to reach the open air before Angel changed his 
mind. 

“You may go," said Angel to Connor, who 
still lingered. 

“ If the safe is to be opened, I'm in it," was 
the sullen reply. 


The Great Attempt 199 

‘‘ You may go,” said Angel; ‘‘ the safe will not 
, be opened to-night.” 

u I » 

Go ! ” thundered the detective, and Connor 
slunk away. 

Angel beckoned the commissionaire who had 
first interrogated Spedding. 

“ Take charge of that bag. Carter. There are 
all sorts of things in it that go off.” Then he 
turned to the lawyer. 

“ Mr. Spedding, there is a great deal that I 
have to say to you, but it would be better to defer 
our conversation; the genuine guard will return 
in a few minutes. I told them to return at 10 
o'clock.” 

By what authority ? ” blustered Spedding. 

“ Tush ! ” said Angel wearily. ‘‘ Surely we 
have got altogether beyond that stage. Your 
order for withdrawal was expected by me. I 
waited upon the sergeant of the guard with an- 
other order.” 

‘‘A forged order, I gather?” said Spedding, 


200 Angel Esquire 

recovering his balance. Now I see why you 
have allowed my men to go. I overrated your 
generosity.” 

“ The order,” said Angel soberly, “ was signed 
by His Majesty’s Secretary of State for Home 
Affairs ” — ^he tapped the astonished lawyer on 
the shoulder — and if it would interest you to 
know, I have a warrant in my pocket for the 
arrest of every man jack of you. That I do not 
put it into execution is a matter of policy.” 

The lawyer scanned the calm face of the de- | 
tective in bewilderment. 

What do you want of me ? ” he asked at ' 
length. 

Your presence at Jimmy’s flat at ten o’clock > 
to-morrow morning,” replied Angel. 

I will be there,” said the other, and turned 
to go. 

“ And, Mr. Spedding,” called Jimmy, as the ‘ 
lawyer reached the door, “ in regard to a boat 
you have chartered from Cardiff, I think you 
need not go any further in the matter. One of 


The Great Attempt 201 

my men is at present interviewing the captain, 
and pointing out to him the enormity of the 
offense of carrying fugitives from justice to 
I Spanish- American ports/' 

“ Damn you ! ” said Spedding, and slammed 
the door. 

Jimmy removed the commissionaire's cap from 
( his head and grinned. 

i “ One of these fine days, Angel, you'll lose 
I your job, introducing the Home Secretary's name. 
I Phew ! " 

“ It had to be done," said Angel sadly. “ It 
hurts me to lie, but I couldn't very well tell Sped- 
I ding that the sergeant of the commissionaires had 
I been one of my own men all along, could I ? " 


CHAPTER X 


SOME BAD CHARACTERS 

i 

It happened that on the night of the great at- j 
tempt the inquisitive Mr. Lane, of 76 Cawdor 
Street, was considerably exercised in his mind as ■ 
to the depleted condition of his humble treasury. 

With Mr. Lane the difference between affluence [ 

i 

and poverty was a matter of shillings. His line } 
of business was a humble one. Lead piping and | 
lengths of telephone wire, an occasional door-mat j 
improvidently left outside whilst the servant 1 
cleaned the hall, these represented the scope and : 
extent of his prey. Perhaps he reached his zenith 
when he lifted an overcoat from a hatstand what ' 
time a benevolent old lady was cutting him thick ! 
slices of bread and butter in a basement kitchen. ^ 
Mr. Lane had only recently returned from a j 
short stay in Wormwood Scrubbs Prison. It ! 
was over a trifling affair of horsehair abstracted 


202 


Some Bad Characters 203 

from railway carriage cushions that compelled 
Mr. Lane’s retirement for two months. It was 
i that same affair that brought about his undoing 
1 on the night of the attempt. 

I For the kudos of the railway theft had nerved 
him to more ambitious attempts, and with a de- 
I pleted exchequer to urge him forward, and the 
I prestige of his recent achievements to support 
' him, he decided upon burglary. It was a wild 
I and reckless departure from his regular line, and 
I he did not stop to consider the disabilities attach- 
ing to a change of profession, nor debate the un- 
I propitious conditions of an already overstocked 
labor market. It is reasonable to suppose that 
Mr. Lane lacked the necessary qualities of logic 
and balance to argue any point to its obvious con- 
clusion, for he was, intellectually, the reverse of 
brilliant, and was therefore ill-equipped for intro- 
spective or psychological examination of the cir- 
cumstances leading to his decision. Communing 
with himself, the inquisitive Mr. Lane put the 
matter tersely and brutally. 


204 Angel Esquire 

“ Lead pipin’s no go unless youVe got a pal to 
work with ; telephone wires is so covered up with 
wood casin’ that it’s worse’n hard work to pinch 
two-penn’oth. I’m goin’ to have a cut at Joneses.” 

So in the pelting rain he watched “ Joneses ” 
from a convenient doorway. He noted with sat- 
isfaction the “ workmen ” departing one by one; 
he observed with joy the going of Jones ” him- 
self; and when, some few minutes afterwards, the 
queer-looking old man, whom he suspected as be- 
ing a sort of caretaker, came shuffling out, slam- 
ming the gate behind him, and peering left and 
right, and mumbling to himself as he squelched 
through the rain, the watcher regarded the re- 
moval of this final difficulty as being an especial 
act of Providence. 

He waited for another half hour, because, for 
some reason or other, the usually deserted street 
became annoyingly crowded. First came a be- 
lated coal cart and a miserably bedraggled car- 
man who cried his wares dolefully. Then a small 
boy, escaping from the confines of his domestic 


Some Bad Characters 205 

circle, came to revel in the downpour and wade 
ecstatically but thoroughly through the puddles 
that had formed on the uneven surface of the 
road. Nemesis, in the shape of a shrill-voiced 
mother, overtook the boy and sent him whining 
and expectant to the heavy hand of maternal 
authority. With the coast clear Mr. Lane lost 
no time. In effecting an entrance to the head- 
quarters of the “ Borough Lot,” Mr. Lane’s 
method lacked subtlety. He climbed over the 
gate leading to the yard, trusting inwardly that 
he was not observed, but taking his chance. Had 
he been an accomplished burglar, with the ex- 
perience of any exploits behind him, he would 
have begun by making a very thorough inspection 
of likely windows. Certainly he would never 
have tried the ‘‘ office ” door. Being the veriest 
tyro, and being conscious, moreover, that his 
greatest feats had connection with doors care- 
lessly left ajar, he tried the door, and to his de- 
light it opened. 

Again the skilled craftsman would have sus- 


2 o 6 Angel Esquire 

pected some sort of treachery, and might have 
withdrawn; but Mr. Lane, recognizing in the fact 
that the old man had forgotten to fasten the door 
behind him only yet another proof of that benev- 
olent Providence which exerts itself for the ex- 
press service of men ‘‘ in luck,” entered boldly. 
He lit a candle stump and looked around. 

The evidence of that wealth which is the par- 
ticular possession of “ master-men ” was not 
evident. Indeed, the floor of the passage was 
uncarpeted, and the walls bare of picture or orna- 
ment. Nor was the office,” a little room lead- 
ing from the “ passage,” any more prolific of 
result. Such fixtures as there were had appar- 
ently been left behind by the previous tenant, and 
these were thick with dust. 

“ Bah ! ” said the inquisitive Mr. Lane scorn- 
fully, and his words echoed hollowly as in an 
empty house. 

With the barren possibilities of his exploit be- 
fore him, Mr. Lane’s spirits fell. 

He was of the class, to whom reference has 


Some Bad Characters 207 

already been made, that looked in awe and rever- 
ence toward the Borough Lot ” in the same 
spirit as the youthful curate might regard the 
consistory of bishops. In his cups — pewter cups 
they were with frothing heads a-top — he was 
wont to boast that his connection with the “ Bor- 
ough Lot was both close and intimate. A 
rumor that went around to the effect that the 
mouthpiece who defended him at the closing 
of the unsatisfactory horsehair episode had been 
paid for by the “ Borough Lot he did not 
trouble to contradict. 

If he had known any of them, even by sight, 
he would not at that moment have been effecting 
a burglarious entry into their premises. 

Room after room he searched. He found the 
ill-furnished bedroom of Connor, and the room 
where old George slept on an uncleanly mattress. 
He found, too, the big room where the ‘‘ Lot ’’ 
held their informal meetings, but nothing port- 
able. Nothing that a man might slip under his 
coat, and walk boldly out of the front door with. 


20 8 Angel Esquire 

No little article of jewelry that your wife might 
carry to a pawnbroker’s with a long face and a 
longer story of a penury that forced you to part 
with her dear mother’s last gift. None of these, 
noted Mr. Lane bitterly, and with every fresh 
disappointment he breathed the harder. 

For apart from the commercial aspect of this, 
his burglary, there was the sickening humiliation 
of failure. An imaginative man, he had already 
invented the story he was to tell to a few select 
cronies in sneak-thief division. He had rehearsed 
mentally a scene where, with an air of noncha- 
lance, he drew a handful of golden sovereigns 
from his pocket and ordered drinks round. And 
whilst they were sipping his drinks, smirking re- 
spectfully, he would have confided to them the 
fact that he had been duly, and with all ceremony, 
installed a full-fledged member of the “ Borough 
Lot.” Of the irony of the situation he was igno- 
rant. A qualified burglar would have completed 
a systematic examination of the premises in ten 
minutes, but Mr. Lane was not so qualified. In 


Some Bad Characters 


209 

consequence he dawdled from room to room, go- 
ing back to this room to make sure, and returning 
to that room to be absolutely certain that nothing 
had been overlooked. Oblivious of the flight of 
time, he stood irresolutely in the topmost room 
of the house when the real adventure of the even- . 
ing began. He heard the click of a lock — he 
had thoughtfully closed the office door behind 
him — and a voice, and his heart leapt into his 
throat. He heard a voice, a voice hoarse with 
rage, and another, and yet another. 

Mr. Lane realized, from the stamping of feet 
on the stairs, that half a dozen men had come into 
the house; from their language he gathered they 
were annoyed. 

Then he heard something that froze his blood 
and turned his marrow to water. 

It had begun in a rumble of hoarse, undis- 
tinguishable words, and ended in the phrase that 
caught his ear. 

. . . he’s sold us, I tell ye ! Put spies on 

us ! He led us into the trap, curse him . . 


210 Angel Esquire 

He heard another voice speaking in a lower 
tone. 

‘‘ What are we worth ? You’re a fool ! What 
d’ye think we’re worth ? Ain’t we the ‘ Borough 
Lot ’ ? Don’t he know enough to hang two or 
three of us . . . It’s Connor and his pal the 

lawyer ...” 

The “ Borough Lot ” ! 

The paralyzing intelligence came to Mr. Lane, 
and he held on to the bare mantelshelf for sup- 
port. Spies ! Suppose they discovered him, 
and mistook him for a spy ! His hair rose at the 
thought. He knew them well enough by repute. 
Overmuch hero-worship had invested them with 
qualities for evil which they may or may not have 
possessed. 

There might be a chance of escape. The 
tumult below continued. Scraps of angry talk 
came floating up. 

Mr. Lane looked out of the window; the drop 
into the street was too long, and there was no 
sign of rope in the house. 


Some Bad Characters 


21 I 


Cautiously he opened the door of the room. 
The men were in the room beneath that in which 
he stood. The staircase that led to the street 
must take him past their door. 

Mr. Lane was very anxious to leave the house. 
He had unwittingly stepped into a hornets’ nest, 
and wanted to make his escape without disturbing 
the inmates. Now was the time — or never. 
Whilst the angry argument continued a creaking 
stair board or so might not attract attention. But 
he made no allowance for the gifts of these men 
— gifts of sight and hearing. Bat Sands, in the 
midst of his tirade, saw the uplifted finger and 
head- jerk of Goyle. He did not check his flow 
of invective, but edged toward the door; then he 
stopped short, and flinging the door open, he 
caught the scared Mr. Lane by the throat, and 
dragging him into the rom, threw him upon the 
ground and knelt on him. 

“ What are ye doing here ? ” he whispered 
fiercely. 

Mr. Lane, with protruding eyes, saw the pitiless 


212 Angel Esquire 

faces about him, saw Goyle lift a life-preserver 
from the table and turn half-round the better to 
strike, and fainted, i 

“ Stop that ! ’’ growled Bat, with outstretched 

hand. '' The little swine has fainted. Who is ii 

li 

he? Do any of you fellers know him? ” j 

It was the wizened- faced man whom Angel had | 
addressed as Lamby who furnished the identifica- 
tion. 

He’s a little crook — name of Lane.” 

Where does he come from? ” 

“ Oh, hereabouts. He was in the Scrubbs in 
my time,” said Lamby. 

They regarded the unconscious burglar in per- 
plexity. 

“ Go through his pockets,” suggested Goyle. 

It happened — and this was the most providen- 
tial happening of the day from Mr. Lane’s point 
of view — that when he had decided upon embark- 
ing on his career of high-class crime he had 
thoughtfully provided himself with a few home- 
made instruments. It was the little poker with 


Some Bad Characters 213 

flattened end to form a jemmy and the center-bit 
that was found in his pocket that in all probability 
saved Mr. Lane’s life. 

Lombroso and other great criminologists have 
given it out that your true degenerate has no 
sense of humor, but on two faces at least there 
was a broad grin when the object of the little 
man’s visit was revealed. 

“ He came to burgle Connor,” said Bat ad- 
miringly. Here, pass over the whisky, one 
of ye ! ” 

He forced a little down the man’s throat, and 
Mr. Lane blinked and opened his eyes in a fright- 
ened stare. 

“ Stand up,” commanded Bat, “ an’ give an 
account of yourself, young feller. What d’ye 
mean by breaking into ” 

“ Never mind about that,” Goyle interrupted 
savagely. ‘‘What has he heard when he was 
sneaking outside ? — that’s the question.” 

“ Nothin’, gentlemen ! ” gasped the unfor- 
tunate Mr. Lane, “ on me word, gentle- 


214 Angel Esquire 

men ! I’ve been in trouble like yourselves, 
an’ ” 

He realized he had blundered. 

Oh,” said Goyle with ominous calm, so' 
you’ve been in trouble like us, have you ? ” 

- I mean ” 

I know what you mean,” hissed the other; 

you mean you’ve been listenin’ to what we’ve 
been saying, you little skunk, and you’re ready to 
bleat to the first copper.” 

It might have gone hard with Mr. Lane but 
for the opportune arrival of the messenger. Bat 
went downstairs at the knock, and the rest stood 
quietly listening. They expected Connor, and 
when his voice did not sound on the stairs they 
looked at one another questioningly. Bat came 
into the room with a yellow envelope in his hand. 
He passed it to Goyle. Reading was not an ac- 
complishment of his. Goyle read it with diffi- 
culty. 

‘‘ Do the best you can,” he read. “ I’m lying 
‘doggo.’ ” 


Some Bad Characters 215 

‘‘ What does that mean ? ” snarled Goyle, hold- 
ing the message in his hand and looking at Bat. 

Hidin', Is he — and we’ve got to do the best we 
can?” 

Bat reached for his overcoat. He did not speak 
as he struggled into it, nor until he had buttoned 
it deliberately. 

‘‘ It means — git,” he said shortly. “ It means 
run, or else it means time, an’ worse than 
time.” 

He swung round to the door. 

Connor’s hidin’,” he stopped to say. “ When 
Connor starts hiding the place is getting hot. 
There’s nothing against me so far as I know, 
except ” 

His eyes fell on the form of Mr. Lane. He 
had raised himself to a sitting position on 
the floor, and now, with disheveled hair 
and outstretched legs, he sat the picture of 
despair. 

Goyle intercepted the glance. 

“ What about him ? ” he asked. 


21 6 Angel Esquire 

'‘Leave him” said Bat; “weVe got no time 
for fooling with him.’’ 

A motor-car came buzzing down Cawdor 
Street, which was unusual. They heard the grind 
of its brakes outside the door, and that in itself 
was sufficiently alarming. Bat extinguished the 
light, and cautiously opened the shutters. He 
drew back with an oath. 

" What’s that ? ” Goyle whispered. ! 

Bat made no reply, and they heard him open [ 
his matchbox. 

" What are you doing ? ” whispered Goyle 
fiercely. 

" Light the lamp,” said the other. 

The tinkle of glass followed as he removed the 
chimney, and in the yellow light Bat faced the 
" Borough Lot.” 

U — P spells ' up,’ an’ that’s what the game 
is,” he said calmly. He was searching his 
pockets as he spoke. "I want a light because 
there’s one or two things in my pocket that I’ve ' 
got to burn — quick ! ” ! 


Some Bad Characters 217 

After some fumbling he found a paper. He 
gave it a swift examination, then he struck a 
match and carefully lit the corner. 

“ It’s the fairest cop,” he went on. ‘‘ The 
street’s full of police, and Angel ain’t playing 
‘ gamblin’ raids ’ this time.” 

There was a heavy knock on the door, but no- 
body moved. Goyle’s face had gone livid. He 
knew better than any man there how impossible 
escape was. That had been one of the draw- 
backs to the house — the ease with which it could 
be surrounded. He had pointed out the fact to 
Connor before. 

Again the knock. 

‘‘Let ’em open it,” said Bat grimly, and as 
though the people outside had heard the invita- 
tion, the. door crashed in, and there came a patter 
as of men running on the stairs. 

First to enter the room was Angel. He nodded 
to Bat coolly, then stepped aside to allow the 
policemen to follow. 

“ I want you,” he said briefly. 


2i8 


Angel Esquire 

What for ? asked Sands. 

Breaking and entering/’ said the detective. 

Put out your hands ! ” 

Bat obeyed. As the steel stirrup-shaped irons 
snapped on his wrists he asked — 

“ Have you got Connor ? ” 

Angel smiled. 

‘‘ Connor lives to fight another day/’ he said 
quietly. 

The policemen who attended him were busy 
with the other occupants of the room. 

“ Bit of a field-day for you, Mr. Angel,” said 
the thin-faced Lamby pleasantly. “ Thought you 
was goin’ to let us off ? ” 

“ Jumping at conclusions hastily is a habit to be 
deplored,” said Angel sententiously. Then he 
saw the panic-stricken Mr. Lane. 

‘‘Hullo, what’s this?” he demanded. 

Mr. Lane had at that moment the inspiration 
of his life. Since he was by fortuitous circum- 
stances involved in this matter, and since it could 
make very little difference one way or the other 


Some Bad Characters 219 

what he said, he seized the fame that lay to his 
hand. 

I am one of the ‘ Borough Lot,’ ” he said, 
and was led out proud and handcuffed with the 
knowledge that he had established beyond dispute 
his title to consideration as a desperate criminal. 

'Mr. Spedding was a man who thought quickly. 
Ideas and plans came to him as dross and dia- 
monds come to the man at the sorting table, and 
he had the faculty of selection. He saw the 
police system of England as only the police them- 
selves saw it, and he had an open mind upon 
Angel’s action. It was within the bounds of pos- 
sibility that Angel had acted with full authority; 
it was equally possible that Angel was bluffing. 

Mr. Spedding had two courses before him, and 
they were both desperate; but he must be sure in 
how, so far, his immediate liberty depended upon 
the whim of a deputy-assistant-commissioner of 
police. 

Angel had mentioned a supreme authority. It 


220 Angel Esquire | 

was characteristic of Spedding that he should ' 
walk into a mine to see how far the fuse had 
burned. In other words, he hailed the first cab, 
and drove to the House of Commons. 

The Right Honorable George Chandler 

i 

Middleborough, His Majesty's Secretary of State 
for Home Affairs, is a notoriously inaccessible j 
man; but he makes exceptions, and such an ex- ' 
ception he made in favor of Spedding. For | 
eminent solicitors do not come down to the House j 

at ten o’clock in the evening to gratify an idle j 

curiosity, or to be shown over the House, or beg | 
patronage and interest; and when a business card 
is marked ‘‘ most urgent,” and that card stands I 
for a staple representative of an important pro- 
fession, the request for an interview is not easily j 
refused. j 

Spedding was shown into the minister’s room, i;, 
and the Home Secretary rose with a smile. He 
knew Mr. Spedding by sight, and had once dined I 
in his company. | 

‘‘ Er — ” he began, looking at the card in his 


Some Bad Characters 221 

hand, “ what can I do for you — at this hour ? ” he 
smiled again. 

“ I have called to see you in the matter of the 
late — er — ^Mr. Reale.” He saw and watched the 
minister's face. Beyond looking a little puzzled, 
the Home Secretary made no sign. 

“ Good ! ” thought Spedding, and breathed with 
more freedom. 

‘‘ I’m afraid ” said the minister. He got 

no further, for Spedding was at once humility, 
apology, and embarrassment. 

What! had the Home Secretary not received 
his letter? A letter dealing with the estate of 
Reale? You can imagine the distress and vexa- 
tion on Mr. Spedding’s face as he spoke of the 
criminal carelessness of his clerk, his attitude of 
helplessness, his recognition of the absolute im- 
possibility of discussing the matter until the 
Secretary had received the letter, and his with- 
drawal, leaving behind him a sympathetic minister 
of State who would have been pleased — would 
have been delighted, my dear sir, to have helped 


222 Angel Esquire 

Mr. Spedding if he’d received the letter in time 
to consider its contents. Mr. Spedding was an 
inventive genius, and it might have been in refer- 
ence to him that the motherhood of invention was 
first identified with dire necessity. 

Out\gain in the courtyard, Spedding found a 
cab that carried him to his club. 

“Angel bluffed! ” he reflected with an inward 
smile. “ My friend, you are risking that nice 
appointment of yours.” 

He smiled again, for it occurred to him that his 
risk was the greater. 

“ Two millions I ” he murmured. “ It is worth 
it : I could do a great deal with two millions.” 

He got down at his club, and tendered the cab- 
man the legal fare to a penny. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE QUEST OF THE BOOK 

When Piccadilly Circus, a blaze of light, was 
thronged with the crowds that the theaters were 
discharging, a motor-car came gingerly through 
the traffic, passed down Regent Street, and 
swinging along Pall Mall, headed southward 
across Westminster Bridge. 

The rain had ceased, but underfoot the roads 
were sodden, and the car bespattered its occu- 
pants with black mud. 

The chauffeur at the wheel turned as the car 
ran smoothly along the tramway lines in the Old 
Kent Road and asked a question, and one of the 
two men in the back of the car consulted the 
other. 

'' We will go to Cramer’s first,” said the man. 

Old Kent Road was a fleeting vision of closed 


223 


224 Angel Esquire 

shops, of little knots of men emerging from 
public-houses at the potman’s strident command; 
Lewisham High Road, as befits that very re- 
spectable thoroughfare, was decorously sleeping; 
Lea, where the hedges begin, was silent; and 
Chislehurst was a place of the dead. 

Near the common the car pulled up at a big 
house standing in black quietude, and the two 
occupants of the car descended and passed 
through the stiff gate, along the graveled path, 
and came to a stop at the broad porch. 

“ I don’t know what old Mauder will say,” 
said Angel as he fumbled for the bell ; ‘‘ he’s a 
methodical old chap.” 

In the silence they could hear the thrill of the 
electric bell. They waited a few minutes, and 
rang again. Then they heard a window opened 
and a sleepy voice demand — 

“ Who is there?” 

Angel stepped back from the porch and looked 
up. 

“ Hullo, Mauder ! I want you. I’m Angel.” 


' The Quest of the Book 225 

The devil! ” said a surprised voice. '' Wait 
a bit. I’ll be down in a jiffy.” 

The pleasant- faced man who in dressing-gown 
' and pajamas opened the door to them and con- 
ducted them to a cozy library was Mr. Ernest 
Mauder himself. It is unnecessary to introduce 
that world-famous publisher to the reader, the 
more particularly in view of the storm of con- 
troversy that burst about his robust figure in 
' regard to the recent publication of Count Lehoff’s 
I embarrassing “ Memoirs.” He made a sign to 
' the two men to be seated, nodding to Jimmy as 
i to an old friend. 

I am awfully sorry to disturb you at this 
rotten hour,” Angel commenced, and the other 
arrested his apology with a gesture. 

You detective people are so fond of springing 
surprises on us unintelligent outsiders,” he said, 
with a twinkle in his eye, “that I am almost 
tempted to startle you.” 

“ It takes a lot to startle me,” said Angel com- 
placently. 


226 Angel Esquire 

You’ve brought it on your own head,” 
warned the publisher, wagging a forefinger at the 
smiling Angel. Now let me tell you why you 
have motored down from London on this misera- 
ble night on a fairly fruitless errand.” 

Eh ? ” The smile left Angel’s face. 

Ah, I thought that would startle you ! You’ve 
come about a book ? ” 

‘‘ Yes,” said Jimmy wonderingly. 

‘‘ A book published by our people nine years 
ago?” 

‘‘ Yes,” the wonderment deepening on the faces 
of the two men. 

“ The title,” said the publisher impressively, 
is A Short Study on the Origin of the Alphabet, 
and the author is a half-mad old don, who was 
subsequently turned out of Oxford for drunk- 
enness.” 

Mauder,” said Jimmy, gazing at his host in 
bewilderment, “ you’ve hit it — ^but ” 

Ah,” said the publisher, triumphant, ‘‘ I 
thought that was it. Well, your search is fruit- 


The Quest of the Book 


227 

less. We only printed five hundred copies; the 
book was a failure — the same ground was more 
effectively covered by better books. I found a 
dusty old copy a few years ago, and gave it to my 
secretary. So far as I know, that is the only 
copy in existence.” 

'‘But your secretary?” said Angel eagerly. 
“ What is his name ? Where does he 
live?” 

'' It’s not a ' he,’ ” said Mauder, “ but a 
' she.’ ” 

" Her name ? ” 

"If you had asked that question earlier in the 
evening I could not have told you,” said Mauder, 
obviously enjoying the mystery he had created, 
" but since then my memory has been refreshed. 
The girl — and a most charming lady too — was 
my secretary for two years. I do not know what 
induced her to work, but I rather think she sup- 
ported an invalid father.” 

"What is her name?” asked Angel impa- 
tiently. 


228 


Angel Esquire 

“ Kathleen Kent/' replied the publisher, and 
her address is " 

‘‘ Kathleen Kent ! ” repeated Jimmy in wide- 
eyed astonishment. Angels and Ministers of 
Grace defend us ! " 

‘‘ Kathleen Kent ! " repeated Angel with a gasp. 

‘‘ Well, that takes the everlasting biscuit ! But," 
he added quickly, how did you come to know of 
our errand?" 

Well," drawled the elder man, wrapping his | 
dressing-gown round him more snugly, it was 
a guess to an extent. You see, Angel, when a ; 
man has been already awakened out of a sound 
sleep to answer mysterious inquiries about an out- 
of-date book " 

What," cried Jimmy, jumping up, “ some- 
body has already been here ? " ; 

‘‘ It is only natural," the publisher went on, “ to 
connect his errand with that of the second mid- * 
night intruder." 

“Who has been here? For Heaven's sake, 
don’t be funny; this is a serious business." ' 


The Quest of the Book 229 

“ Nobody has been here/’ said Mauder, “ but 
an hour ago a man called me up on the tele- 
phone ” 

Jimmy looked at Angel, and Angel looked at 
Jimmy. 

‘‘ Jimmy,” said Angel penitently, “ write me 
down as a fool. Telephone ! Heavens, I didn’t 
know you were connected.” 

Nor was I till last week,” said the publisher, 
‘‘ nor will I be after to-morrow. Sleep is too 
precious a gift to be dissipated ” 

“ Who was the man ? ” demanded Angel. 

“ I couldn’t quite catch his name. He was 
very apologetic. I gathered that he was a news- 
, paper man, and wanted particulars in connection 
with the death of the author.” 

Angel smiled. 

i “ The author’s alive all right,” he said grimly. 

“ How did the voice sound — a little pompous, 

! with a clearing of the throat before each 
I sentence ? ” 


The other nodded. 


230 Angel Esquire 

“ Spedding ! ” said Angel, rising. We 
haven’t any time to lose, Jimmy.” 

Mauder accompanied them into the hall. 

‘‘ One question,” said Jimmy, as he fastened 
the collar of his motor-coat. Can you give us 
any idea of the contents of the book?” 

‘‘ I can’t,” was the reply. I have a dim recol- 
lection that much of it was purely conventional, 
that there were some rough drawings, and the 
earlier forms of the alphabet were illustrated — 
the sort of thing you find in encyclopaedias or in 
the back pages of teachers’ Bibles.” 

The two men took their seats in the car as it 
swung round and turned its bright head-lamps 
toward London. 

* “ I found this puzzle in a book 
From which some mighty truths were took,' ” 

murmured Angel in his companion’s ear, and 
Jimmy nodded. He was at that moment utterly 
oblivious and careless of the fortune that awaited 
them in the great safe at Lombard Street. His 
mind was filled with anxiety concerning the girl 


The Quest of the Book 231 

who unconsciously held the book which might to- 
morrow make her an heiress. Spedding had 
moved promptly, and he would be aided, he did 
not doubt, by Connor and the ruffians of the 
Borough Lot.’' If the book was still in the 
girl’s possession they would have it, and they 
would make their attempt at once. 

His mind was full of dark forebodings, and 
although the car bounded through the night at 
full speed, and the rain which had commenced to 
fall again cut his face, and the momentum of the 
powerful machine took his breath away, it went 
all too slowly for his mood. 

One incident relieved the monotony of the 
journey. As the car flew round a corner in an 
exceptionally narrow lane it almost crashed into 
another car, which, driven at breakneck speed, 
was coming in the opposite direction. A fleeting 
exchange of curses between the chauffeurs, and 
the cars passed. 

By common consent, they had headed for Kath- 
leen’s home. Streatham was deserted. As they 


232 Angel Esquire 

turned the corner of the quiet road in which the 
girl lived, Angel stopped the car and alighted. He 
lifted one of the huge lamps from the socket and 
examined the road. 

“ There has been a car here less than half an 
hour ago,” he said, pointing to the unmistakable 
track of wheels. They led to the door of the 
house. 

He rang the bell, and it was almost immedi- 
ately answered by an elderly lady, who, wrapped 
in a loose dressing-gown, bade him enter. 

“ Nobody seems to be surprised to see us to- 
night,” thought Angel with bitter humor. 

“ I am Detective Angel from Scotland Yard,” 
he announced himself, and the elderly lady seemed 
unimpressed. 

Kathleen has gone,” she informed him cheer- 
fully. 

Jimmy heard her with a sinking at his 
heart. 

Yes,” said the old lady, Mr. Spedding, the 
eminent solicitor, called for her an hour ago, 


The Quest of the Book 233 

and ” — she grew confidential — “ as I know you 
gentlemen are very much interested in the case, 
I may say that there is every hope that before 
to-morrow my niece will be in possession of her 
fortune/’ 

Jimmy groaned. 

Please, go on,” said Angel. 

It came about over a book which Kathleen 
had given her some years ago, and which most 
i assuredly would have been lost but for my care- 
fulness.” 

Jimmy cursed her ‘‘ carefulness ” under his 
breath. 

“ When we moved here after the death of 
Kathleen’s poor father I had a great number of 
things stored. There were amongst these an 
immense quantity of books, which Kathleen 
would have sold, but which I thought ” 

‘‘ Where are these stored ? ” asked Angel 
quickly. 

‘‘At an old property of ours — ^the only prop- 
erty that my poor brother had remaining,” she 


2 34 Angel Esquire 

replied sadly, “ and that because it was in too 

dilapidated a condition to attract buyers.” 

“ Where, where ? ” Angel realized the rude- 
ness of his impatience. Forgive me, madam,” 
he said, but it is absolutely necessary that I 
should follow your niece at once.” 

‘‘ It is on the Tonbridge Road,” she answered 
stiffly. “ So far as I can remember, it is some- 
where between Crawley and Tonbridge, but I am 
not sure. Kathleen knows the place well; that is 
why she has gone.” 

“ Somewhere on the Tonbridge Road ! ” re- 
peated Angel helplessly. 

“ We could follow the car’s tracks,” said 
Jimmy. 

Angel shook his head. 

“If this rain is general, they will be obliter- 
ated,” he replied. 

They stood a minute, Jimmy biting the sod- 
den finger of his glove, and Angel staring into 
vacancy. Then Jimmy demanded unexpectedly — 

“ Have you a Bible ? ” 


The Quest of the Book 235 

The old lady allowed the astonishment she felt 
at the question to be apparent. 

I have several.’^ 

“ A teacher’s Bible, with notes ? ” he asked. 

She thought. 

Yes, there is such an one in the house. Will 
you wait?” 

She left the room. 

We should have told the girl about Spedding 
— we should have told her,” said Angel in despair. 

It’s no use crying over spilt milk,” said 
Jimmy quietly. “ The thing to do now is to frus- 
trate Spedding and rescue the girl.” 

‘‘ Will he dare ? ” 

‘‘ He’ll dare. Oh, yes, he’ll dare,” said Jimmy. 
** He’s worse than you think, Angel.” 

‘‘ But he is already a ruined man.” 

“ The more reason why he should go a step 
further. He’s been on the verge of ruin for 
months. I’ve found that out. I made inquiries 
the other day, and discovered he’s in a hole that 
the dome of St. Paul’s wouldn’t fill. He’s a 


236 Angel Esquire 

trustee or something of the sort for an association 
that has been pressing him for money. Spedding 
will dare anything '' — he paused then — “ but if 
he dares to harm that girl he’s a dead man.” 

The old lady came in at that moment with the 
book, and Jimmy hastily turned over the pages. 

Near the end he came upon something that 
brought a gleam to his eye. 

He thrust his hand into his pocket and drew 
out a notebook. He did not wait to pull up a 
chair, but sank on his knees by the side of the 
table and wrote rapidly, comparing the text with 
the drawings in the book. 

Angel, leaning over, followed the work breath- 
lessly. 

“ There — and there — and there ! ” cried Angel 
exultantly. “ What fools we were, Jimmy, what 
fools we were.” 

Jimmy turned to the lady. 

“May I borrow this book?” he asked. “It 
will be returned. Thank you. Now, Angel,” he 
looked at his watch and made a move for the 



The Quest of the Book 237 

door, “ we have two hours. We will take the 
Tonbridge Road by daybreak.” 

Only one other person did they disturb on that 
eventful night, and that was a peppery old Colonel 
of Marines, who lived at Blackheath. 

There, before the hastily-attired old officer, as 
the dawn broke, Angel explained his mission, and 
writing with feverish haste, subscribed to the 
written statement by oath. Whereupon the Jus- 
tice of the Peace issued a warrant for the arrest 
of Joseph James Spedding, Solicitor, on a charge 
of felony. 


CHAPTER XII 


WHAT HAPPENED AT FLAIRBY MILL 

Kathleen very naturally regarded the lawyer 
in the light of a disinterested friend. There was 
no reason why she should not do so; and if there 
had been any act needed to kindle a kindly feeling 
for the distant legal adviser it was this last act 
of his, for no sooner, as he told her, had he dis- 
covered by the merest accident a clue to the hid- 
den word, than he had rushed off post-haste to 
put her in possession of his information. He had 
naturally advised immediate action, and when 
she demurred at the lateness of the hour at which 
to begin a hunt for the book, he had hinted 
vaguely at difficulties which would beset her if 
she delayed. She wanted to let Angel know, and 
Jimmy, but this the lawyer would not hear of, and 

'f. 

she accounted for the insistence of his objection , | 

by the cautiousness of the legal mind. 

238 [. 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 239 

Then the excitement of the midnight adventure 
appealed to her — the swift run in the motor-car 
through the wild night, and the wonderful pos- 
sibilities of the search at the end of the ride. 

So she went, and her appetite for adventure 
was all but satisfied by a narrowly-averted col- 
lision with another car speeding in the opposite 
direction. She did not see the occupants of the 
other car, but she hoped they had had as great 
a fright as she. 

As a matter of fact, neither of the two men 
had given a second thought to their danger; one's 
mind was entirely and completely filled with her 
image, and the other was brooding on telephones. 

She had no time to tire of the excitement of 
the night — ^the run across soaking heaths and 
through dead villages, where little cottages 
showed up for a moment in the glare of the head- 
lights, then faded into the darkness. Too soon 
she came to a familiar stretch of the road, and the 
car slowed down so that they might not pass the 
tiny grass lane that led to Flairby Mill. They 


240 Angel Esquire 

came to it at last, and the car bumped cautiously 
over deep cart ruts, over loose stones, and through 
long drenched grasses till there loomed out of the 
night the squat outlines of Flairby Mill. 

Once upon a time, before the coming of cheap 
machinery, Flairby Mill had been famous in the 
district, and the rumble of its big stones went on 
incessantly, night and day; but the wheel had long 
since broken, its wreck lay in the bed of the little 
stream that had so faithfully served it; its machin- 
ery was rust and scrap iron, and only the tiny 
dwelling-house that adjoined was of value. With 
little or no repair the homestead had remained 
watertight and weatherproof, and herein had 
Kathleen stored the odds and ends of her father’s 
household. The saddles, shields, spears, and odd- 
ments he had collected in his travels, and the 
modest library that had consoled the embittered 
years of his passing, were all stored here. Value- 
less as the world assesses value, but in the eyes of 
the girl precious things associated with her dead 
father. 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 241 

The tears rose to her eyes as Spedding, taking 
the key from her hand, fitted it into the lock of a 
seventeenth-century door, but she wiped them 
away furtively. 

Spedding utilized the acetylene lamp of the car 
to show him the way into the house. “You must 
direct me. Miss Kent,” he said, and Kathleen 
pointed the way. Up the oaken stairs, covered 
with dust, their footsteps resounding hollowly 
through the deserted homestead, the two passed. 
At the head of the stairs was a heavy door, and 
acting under the girl's instructions, . the lawyer 
opened this. 

It was a big room, almost like a barn, with a 
timbered ceiling sloping downward. There were 
three shuttered windows, and another door at 
the farther end of the room that led to a smaller 
room. 

“ This was the miller's living room,” she said 
sadly. She could just remember when a miller 
lived in the homestead, and when she had ridden 
up to the door of the mill accompanied by her 


242 Angel Esquire 

father, and the miller, white and jovial, had lifted 
her down and taken her through a mysterious 
chamber where great stones turned laboriously 
and noisily, and the air was filled with a fine white 
dust. 

Spedding placed the lamp on the table, and cast 
his eyes round the room in search of the books. 
They were not difficult to discover; they had been 
unpacked, and were ranged in three disorderly 
rows upon roughly constructed bookshelves. The 
lawyer turned the lamp so that the full volume of 
light should fall on the books. Then he went 
carefully over them, row by row, checking each 
copy methodically, and half muttering the name 
of each tome he handled. There were school 
books, works of travel, and now and again a 
heavily bound scientific treatise, for her father 
had made science a particular study. The girl 
stood with one hand resting on the table, looking 
on, admiring the patience of the smooth, heavy 
man at his task, and, it must be confessed, in- 
wardly wondering what necessity there was for 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 243 

this midnight visitation. She had told the lawyer 
nothing about the red envelope, but instinctively 
felt that he knew all about it. 

''Anabasis, Xenophon,’’ he muttered; ‘‘Jose- 
phus, Works and Life; Essays of Elia; Es- 
says, Emerson; Essays, De Quincey. What’s 
this?” 

He drew from between two bulky volumes a 
thin little book with a discolored cover. He 
dusted it carefully, glanced at the title, opened it 
and read the title-page, then walked back to the 
table and seated himself, and started to read the 
book. 

The girl did not know why, but there was 
something in his attitude at that moment that 
caused her a little uneasiness, and stirred within 
her a sense of danger. Perhaps it was that up 
till then he had shown her marked deference, had 
been almost obsequious. Now that the book had 
been found he disregarded her. He did not bring 
it to her or invite her attention, and she felt that 
she was “ out of the picture,” that the lawyer’s 


244 Angel Esquire 

interest in her affairs had stopped dead just as 
soon as the discovery was made. 

He turned the leaves over carefully, poring ^ 
over the introduction, and her eyes wandered j 
from the book to his face. She had never looked I 
at him before with any critical interest. In the 
unfriendly light of the lamp she saw his imper- 
fections — the brutal strength of his jaw, the un- 
scrupulous thinness of the lip, the heavy eyelids, 
and the curious hairlessness of his face. She 
shivered a little, for she read too much in his face 
for her peace of mind. 

Unconscious of her scrutiny, for the book be- 
fore him was all-engrossing, the lawyer went 
from page to page. 

“Don’t you think we had better be going?” 
Kathleen asked timidly. 

Spedding looked up, and his stare was in keep- 
ing with his words. 

“ When I have finished we will go,” he said 
brusquely, and went on reading. 

Kathleen gave a little gasp of astonishment. 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 245 

for, with all her suspicions, she had not been pre- 
pared for such a complete and instant dropping 
of his mask of amiability. In a dim fashion she 
began to realize her danger, yet there could be 
no harm; outside was the chauffeur, he stood for 
something of established order. She made an- 
other attempt. 

I must insist, Mr. Spedding, upon your finish- 
ing your examination of that book elsewhere. I 
do not know whether you are aware that you are 
occupying the only chair in the room,'' she added 
indignantly. 

“ I am very well aware," said the lawyer 
calmly, without raising his eyes. 

“ Mr. Spedding ! " 

He looked up with an air of weariness. 

‘‘ May I ask you to remain quiet until I have 
finished," he said, with an emphasis that she could 
not mistake, ‘‘ and lest you have any lingering 
doubt that my present research is rather on my 
own account than on yours, I might add that if 
you annoy me by whining or fuming, or by any 


246 Angel Esquire 

such nonsensical tricks, I have that with me which 
will quiet you,’' and he resumed his reading. 

Cold and white, the girl stood in silence, her 
heart beating wildly, her mind occupied with 
schemes of escape. 

After a while the lawyer looked up and tapped 
the book with his forefinger. 

** Your precious secret is a secret no longer,” 
he said with a hard laugh. Kathleen made no 
answer. ‘‘ If I hadn’t been a fool, I should have 
seen through it before,” he added, then he looked 
at the girl in meditation. 

“ I have two propositions before me,” he said, 

and I want your help.” 

“ You will have no help from me, Mr. Sped- 
ding,” she replied coldly. To-morrow you 
will be asked to explain your extraordinary 
conduct.” 

He laughed. 

“To-morrow, by whom? By Angel or the 
young swell-mobsman who’s half in love with 
you?” 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 247 

He laughed again as he saw the color rising to 
the girl’s cheeks. 

Ah ! I’ve hit the mark, have I ? ” 

She received his speech in contemptuous silence. 

To-morrow I shall be away — well away, I 
trust, from the reach of either of the gentlemen 
you mention. I am not concerned with to- 
morrow as much as to-day.” She remembered 
that they were within an hour of daybreak. To- 
day is a most fateful day for me — and for you.’* 
He emphasized the last words. 

She preserved an icy silence. 

“ If I may put my case in a nutshell,” he went 
on, with all his old-time suavity, I may say that 
it is necessary for me to secure the money that is 
stored in that ridiculous safe.” She checked an 
exclamation. ‘‘Ah! you understand? Let me 
be more explicit. When I say get the money, I 
mean get it for myself, every penny of it, and 
convert it to my private use. You can have no 
idea,” he went on, “ how comforting it is to be 
able to stand up and say in so many words the 


248 Angel Esquire j 

unspoken thoughts of a year, to tell some human i 

being the most secret things that I have so far 1 

hidden here,” he struck his chest. I had thought 
when old Reale’s commission was intrusted to me 
that I should find the legatees ordinary plain, 
everyday fools, who would have unfolded to me [ 
day by day the result of their investigations to | 
my profit. I did not reckon very greatly on you, 1 
for women are naturally secretive and suspicious, 
but I did rely upon the two criminals. My ex- 
perience of the criminal classes, a fairly extensive j 

one, led me to believe that with these gentry I j 

should have no difficulty.” He pursed his lips. ^ 

I had calculated without my Jimmy,” he said | 

shortly. He saw the light in the girl’s eye. 1 

“ Yes,” he went on, “ Jimmy is no ordinary man, | 

and Angel is a glaring instance of bad nomen- j 

clature. I nearly had Jimmy once. Did he tell 
you how he got the red envelope? I see he did i 
not. Well, I nearly had him. I went to look 
for his body next morning, and found nothing. 
Later in the day I received a picture postcard 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 249 

from him, of a particularly flippant and vulgar 
character/’ He stopped as if inviting comment. 

“ Your confessions have little interest for me,” 
said the girl quietly. ‘‘ I am now only anxious 
to be rid of your presence.” 

“ I am coming to that,” said the lawyer. “ I 
was very rude to you a little while ago, but I was 
busily engaged, and besides I desired to give you 
an artistic introduction to the new condition. 
Now, so far from being rude, I wish to be very 
kind.” 

In spite of her outward calm, she trembled at 
the silky tone the lawyer had now adopted. 

“ My position is this,” he said, “ there is an 
enormous sum of money, which rightly is yours. 
The law and the inclination of your competitor — 
we will exclude Connor, who is not a factor — 
give you the money. It is unfortunate that I 
also, who have no earthly right, should desire this 
money, and we have narrowed down the ultimate 
issue to this: Shall it be Spedding or Kathleen 
Kent? I say Spedding, and circumstances sup- 


250 Angel Esquire 

port my claim, for I have you here, and, if you 
will pardon the suspicion of melodrama, very 
much in my power. If I am to take the two mil- 
lions, your two millions, without interruption, it 
will depend entirely upon you.’^ 

Again he stopped to notice the effect of his | 
words. The girl made no response, but he could 
see the terror in her eyes. I 

“ If I could have dispensed with your services, | 
or if I had had the sense to guess the simple solu- | 
tion of this cursed puzzle, I could have done ; 
everything without embarrassing you in the j 

slightest ; but now it has come to this — I have got ^ 
to silence you.^’ | 

He put forward the proposition with the utmost • 
coolness, and Kathleen felt her senses reel at all j 
the words implied. j 

“I can silence you by killing you,’^ he said 
simply, ‘‘ or by marrying you. If I could think j 
of some effective plan by which I might be sure I* 

of your absolute obliteration for two days, I [i 
would gladly adopt it; but you are a human j 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 251 

woman, and that is too much to expect. Now, of 
the alternatives, which do you prefer?’* 

She shrank back against the shuttered window, 
her eyes on the man. .p 

You are doubtless thinking of the chauffeur,” 
he said smoothly, “ but you may leave him out of 
the reckoning. Had your ears been sharp, you 
would have heard the car going back half an hour 
ago — he is awaiting our return half a mile away. 
If I return alone he will doubtlessly be surprised, 
but he will know nothing. Do you not see a pic- 
ture of him driving me away, and me, at his side, 
turning round and waving a smiling farewell to 
an imaginary woman who is invisible to the chauf- 
feur ? Picture his uneasiness vanishing with this 
touch. Two days afterwards he would be on the 
sea with me, ignorant of the murder, and curious 
things happen at sea. Come, Kathleen, is it to be 
marriage ?” 

“ Death ! ” she cried hoarsely, then, as his swift 
hand caught her by the throat, she screamed. 

His face looked down into hers, no muscle of it 


252 Angel Esquire 

moved. Fixed, rigid, and full of his dreadful 
purpose, she saw the pupils of his pitiless eyes 
contract. 

Then of a sudden he released hold of her, and 
she fell back against the wall. 

She heard his quick breathing, and closing her 
eyes, waited. 

Then slowly she looked up. She saw a revolver 
in his hand, and in a numb kind of way she 
realized that it was not pointed at her. 

Hands up ! ” She heard Spedding’s harsh 
shout. “ Hands up, both of you I 

Then she heard an insolent laugh. 

There were only two men in the world who 
would laugh like that in the very face of death, 
and they were both there, standing in the door- 
way, Angel with his motor goggles about his 
neck and Jimmy slowly peeling his gloves. 

Then she looked at Spedding. 

The hand that held the revolver did not 
tremble, he was as self-possessed as he had been a 
few minutes before. 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 253 

If either of you move Fll shoot the girl, by 
God ! ” said Spedding through his teeth. 

They stood in the doorway, and Jimmy spoke. 
He did not raise his voice, but she heard the 
slumbering passion vibrating through his quiet 
sentences. 

Spedding, Spedding, my man, you're fright- 
ening that child; put your gun down and let us 
talk. Do you hear me? I am keeping myself 
in hand, Spedding, but if you harm that girl I’ll 
be a devil to you. D’ye hear? If you hurt her, 
I’ll take you with my bare hands and treat you 
Indian fashion, Spedding, my man, tie you down 
and stake you out, then burn you slowly. Yes, 
and, by the Lord, if any man interferes, even if 
it’s Angel here. I’ll swing for him. D’ye hear 
that?” 

His breast heaved with the effort to hold 
himself, and Spedding, shuddering at the 
ferocity in the man’s whole bearing, lowered his 
pistol. 

Let us talk,” he said huskily. 


254 Angel Esquire 

That’s better,” said Angel, and let me talk 
first. I want you.” 

Come and take me,” he said. 

‘' The risk is too great,” said Angel frankly, 

“ and besides, I can afford to wait.” 

“Well?” asked the lawyer defiantly, after a 
long pause. He kept the weapon in his hand 
pointed in the vicinity of the girl. 

Angel exchanged a word in an undertone with 
his companion, then — 

“ You may go,” he said, and stepped aside. 

Spedding motioned him farther away. Then 
slowly edging his way to the door, he reached it. 
He paused for a moment as if about to speak, 
then quick as thought raised his revolver and fired 
twice. 

Angel felt the wind of the bullets as they passed 
his face, and sprang forward just as Jimmy’s arm 
shot out. 

Crack, crack, crack ! Three shots so rapid that 
their reports were almost simultaneous from 
Jimmy’s automatic pistol sped after the lawyer, ; 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 255 

but too late, and the heavy door crashed to in 
Angel's face, and the snap of the lock told them 
they were prisoners. 

Angel made a dart for a window, but it was 
shuttered and nailed and immovable. 

He looked at Jimmy, and burst into a ringing 
laugh. 

“ Trapped, by Jove ! " he said. 

Jimmy was on his knees by the side of the girl. 
She had not fainted, but had suddenly realized 
her terrible danger, and the strain and weariness 
of the night adventure had brought her trembling 
to her knees. Very tenderly did Jimmy's arm 
support her. She felt the strength of the man, 
and, thrilled at his touch, her head sank on his 
shoulder and she felt at rest. 

Angel was busily examining the windows, when 
a loud report outside the house arrested his at- 
tention. 

What is that ? " asked the girl faintly. 

It is either Mr. Spedding's well-timed suicide, 
which I fear is too much to expect," said Angel 


256 Angel Esquire 

philosophically, '' or else it is the same Mr. Sped- 
ding destroying the working parts of our car. I 
am afraid it is the latter.’* 

He moved up and down the room, examined 
the smaller chamber at the other end, then sniffed 
uneasily. 

Miss Kent,** he said earnestly, ‘‘ are you well 
enough to tell me something ? ** 

She started and flushed as she drew herself 
from Jimmy’s arms, and stood up a little shakily. 

“ Yes,” she said, with a faint smile, “ I think 
I am all right now.” 

What is there under here ? ” asked Angel, 
pointing to the floor. 

“ An old workshop, a sort of storehouse,” she 
replied in surprise. 

‘‘ What is in it ? ** There was no mistaking 
the seriousness in Angel’s voice. 

“ Broken furniture.” 

Mattresses? ” 

“ Yes, I think there are, and paints and things. 
Why do you ask ? *' 


A 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 257 

“ Jimmy, said Angel quickly, do you smell 
anything ? ” 

Jimmy sniffed. 

Yes,’’ he said quickly. Quick, the win- 
dows ! ” 

They made a rapid search of the room. In a 
corner Jimmy unearthed a rusty cavalry saber. 

‘‘ That’s the thing,” said Angel, and started to 
prise loose the solid shutter; but the wood was 
unyielding, and just as they had secured a pur- 
chase the blade snapped. 

“ There is an old ax in the cupboard,” cried 
the girl, who apprehended the hidden danger. 

With a yell of joy Angel dragged forth an anti- 
quated battle-ax, and attacked the shutter afresh. 
With each blow the wood flew in big splinters, but 
fast as he worked something else was moving 
faster. Angel had not mistaken the smell of 
petrol, and now a thin vapor of smoke flowed into 
the room from underneath the door, and in tiny 
spirals through the interstices of the floorboards. 
Angel stopped exhausted, and Jimmy picked up 


258 Angel Esquire 

the ax and struck it true, then after one vigorous 
stroke a streak of daylight showed in the shutter. 
The room was now intolerably hot, and Angel 
took up the ax and hacked away at the oaken 
barrier to life. 

‘‘ Shall we escape? ’’ asked the girl quietly. 

“ Yes, I think so,’' said Jimmy steadily. 

I shall not regret to-night,” she faltered. 

‘‘ Nor I,” said Jimmy in a low voice, what- 
ever the issue is. It is very good to love once in a 
lifetime, even if that once is on the brink of the 
grave.” 

Her lips quivered, and she tried to speak. 

Angel was hard at work on the window, and 
his back was toward them, and Jimmy bent and 
kissed the girl on the lips. 

The window was down! Angel turned in a 
welter of perspiring triumph. 

“ Outside as quick as dammit 1 ” he cried. 

Angel had found a rope in the smaller room in 
his earlier search, and this he slipped round the 
girl’s waist. When you get down run clear of 


What Happened at Flairby Mill 259 

the smoke,” he instructed her, and in a minute 
she found herself swinging in mid-air, in a cloud 
of rolling smoke that blinded and choked her. 
She felt the ground, and staying only to loose the 
rope, she ran outward and fell exhausted on a 
grassy bank. 

In a few minutes the two men were by her side. 
They stood in silence contemplating the con- 
flagration, then Kathleen remembered. 

The book, the book ! ” she cried. 

“ It’s inside my shirt,” said the shameless 
Angel. 


CHAPTER XIII 


CONNOR TAKES A HAND 

It is an axiom at Scotland Yard, Beware of 
an audience.” Enemies of our police system ad- 
vance many and curious reasons for this bashful- 
ness. In particular they place a sinister inter- 
pretation upon the desire of the police to carry 
out their work without fuss and without ostenta- 
tion, for the police have an embarrassing system 
of midnight arrests. Unless you advertise the 
fact, or unless your case is of sufficient importance 
to merit notice in the evening newspapers, there 
is no reason why your disappearance from society 
should excite comment, or why the excuse, put 
forward for your absence from your accustomed 
haunts, that you have gone abroad should not be 
accepted without question. 

Interviewing his wise chief, Angel received 
some excellent advice. 


260 


Connor Takes a Hand 261 

“If you’ve got to arrest him, do it quietly. If, 
as you suggest, he barricades himself in his house, 
or takes refuge in his patent vault, leave him 
alone. We want no fuss, and we want no news- 
paper sensations. If you can square up the Reale 
business without arresting him, by all means do 
so. We shall probably get him in — er — what do 
you call it, Angel ? — oh, yes, ‘ the ordinary way 
of business.’ ” 

“ Very good, sir,” said Angel, nothing loth to 
carry out the plan. 

“ From what I know of this class of man,” the 
Assistant-Commissioner went on, fingering his 
grizzled mustache, “ he will do nothing. He will 
go about his daily life as though nothing had 
happened; you will find him in his office this 
morning, and if you went to arrest him you’d be 
shot dead. No, if you take my advice you’ll leave 
him severely alone for the present. He won’t 
run away.” 

So Angel thanked his chief and departed. 

Throughout the morning he was obsessed by a 


262 Angel Esquire 

desire to see the lawyer. By midday this had 
become so overmastering that he put on his hat 
and sauntered down to Lincoln's Inn Fields. 

“ Yes, Mr. Spedding was in," said a sober 
clerk, and — after consulting his employer — Mr. 
Spedding would see him." 

The lawyer was sitting behind a big desk cov- 
ered with be-ribboned bundles of papers. He 
greeted Angel with a smile, and pointed to a chair 
on the other side of the desk. 

“ IVe been in court most of the morning," he 
said blandly, but Fm at liberty for half an hour. 
What can I do for you ? " 

Angel looked at him in undisguised admiration. 

You're a wonderful chap," he said with a 
shake of his head. 

“ You're admiring me," said the lawyer, finger- 
ing a paper-knife, “ in very much the same way 
as an enthusiastic naturalist admires the mark- 
ings of a horned viper." 

‘‘ That is very nicely put,” said Angel truth- 
fully. 


Connor Takes a Hand 263 

The lawyer had dropped his eyes on to the desk 
before him; then he looked up. 

What is it to be ? ” he asked. 

** A truce, ’ said Angel. 

“ I thought you would say that,” replied Sped- 
ding comfortably, “ because I suppose you 
know ” 

‘‘ Oh, yes,” said Angel with nonchalant ease, 
“ I know that the right hand which is so care- 
lessly reposing on your knee holds a weapon of 
remarkable precision.” 

You are well advised,” said the lawyer, with 
a slight bow. 

? Of course,” said Angel, ‘‘ there is a warrant 
in existence for your arrest.” 

‘‘ Of course,” agreed Spedding politely. 

I got it as a precautionary measure,” Angel 
went on in his most affable manner. 

‘‘ Naturally,” said the lawyer; and now ” 

** Oh, now,” said Angel, I wanted to give you 
formal notice that, on behalf of Miss Kent, we 
intend opening the safe to-morrow.” 


264 Angel Esquire 

“ I will be there,” said the lawyer, and rang a 
bell. 

And,” added Angel in a lower voice, keep 
out of Jimmy’s way.” 

Spedding’s lips twitched, the only sign of nerv- 
ousness he had shown during the interview, but 
he made no reply. As the clerk stood waiting at 
the open door, Spedding, with his most gracious 
smile, said — 

‘‘ Er — and did you get home safely this 
morning? ” 

Quite, thank you,” replied Angel, in no wise 
perturbed by the man’s audacity. 

‘‘ Did you find your country quarters — er — 
comfortable ? ” 

“ Perfectly,” said Angel, rising to the occasion, 
but the function was a failure.” 

The function ? ” The lawyer bit at the bait 
Angel had thrown. 

‘‘ Yes,” said the detective, his hand on the door, 
the house-warming, you know.” 

Angel chuckled to himself all the way back to 


Connor Takes a Hand 265 

the Embankment. His grim little jest pleased 
him so much that he must needs call in and 
tell his chief, and the chief’s smile was very- 
flattering. 

“ You’re a bright boy,” he said, “ but when the 
day comes for you to arrest that lawyer gentle- 
man, I trust you will, as a precautionary measure, 
purge your soul of all frivolities, and prepare 
yourself for a better world.” 

If,” said Angel, ‘‘ I do not see the humorous 
side of being killed, I shall regard my life as 
badly ended.” 

“ Get out,” ordered the Commissioner, and 
Angel got. 

He realized as the afternoon wore on that he 
was very tired, and snatched a couple of hours’ 
sleep before keeping the appointment he had 
made with Jimmy earlier in the day. Whilst he 
was dressing Jimmy came in — ^Jimmy rather 
white, with a surgical bandage round his head, 
and carrying with him the pungent scent of iodo- 
form. 


266 Angel Esquire 

“ Hullo/' said Angel in astonishment, “ what 
on earth have you been doing?" 

Jimmy cast an eye round the room in search of 
the most luxurious chair before replying. 

“ Ah," he said with a sigh of contentment as 
he seated himself, “ that's better." 

Angel pointed to the bandage. 

‘‘ When did this happen? " 

‘‘ An hour or so ago," said Jimmy. Sped- 
ding is a most active man." 

Angel whistled. 

‘‘ Conventionally? " he asked. 

“ Artistically," responded Jimmy, nodding his 
bandaged head. ‘‘ A runaway motor-car that 
followed my cab — beautifully done. The cab 
horse was killed and the driver has a concussion, 
but I saw the wheeze and jumped." 

“ Got the chauffeur ? " asked Angel anxiously. 

“Yes; it was in the City. You know the City 
police? Well, they had him in three seconds. 
He tried to bolt, but that’s a fool’s game in the 
City.” 


Connor Takes a Hand 267 

** Was it Spedding^s chauffeur ? ’’ 

Jimmy smiled pityingly. 

“Of course not. That’s where the art of the 
thing comes in.” 

Angel looked grave for a minute. 

“ I think we ought to ‘ pull ’ our friend,” he 
said. 

“ Meaning Spedding? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I don’t agree with you,” said Jimmy. “ It 
would be ever so much more comfortable for you 
and me, but it will be ever so much better to finish 
up the Reale business first.” 

“ Great minds ! ” murmured Angel, remember- 
ing his chief’s advice. “ I suppose Mr. Spedding 
will lay for me to-night.” 

“ You can bet your life on that,” said Jimmy 
cheerfully. 

As he was speaking, a servant came into the 
room with ? letter. When the man had gone, 
Angel opened and read it. His grin grew broader 
as he perused it. 


268 Angel Esquire 

“ Listen ! he said. ‘‘ It’s from Miss Kent.” | 
Jimmy was all attention. 

“ Dear Mr. Angel, 

Spedding has trapped me again. Whilst 
I was shopping this afternoon, two men came 
up to me and asked me to accompany them. 
They said they were police officers, and wanted 
me in connection with last night’s affair. I was 
so worried that I went with them. They took 
me to a strange house in Kensington. . . . 

For Heaven’s sake, come to me! . . .” 

Jimmy’s face was so white that Angel thought 
he would faint. 

“ The hounds I ” he cried. Angel, we 
must ” 

You must sit down,” said Angel, ‘‘ or you’ll 
be having a fit.” He examined the letter again. 

‘‘ It’s beautifully done,” he said. “ Scrawled on 
a torn draper’s bill in pencil, it might very easily 
be her writing.” 

He put the missive carefully in a drawer of his 
desk, and locked it. 


Connor Takes a Hand 269 

'' Unfortunately for the success of that scheme, 
Mr. Spedding, I have four men watching Miss 
Kent’s house day and night, and being in tele- 
phonic communication, I happen to know that 
that young lady has not left her house all 
day.” 

He looked at Jimmy, white and shaking. 

“ Buck up, Jimmy ! ” he said kindly. Your 
bang on the head has upset you more than you 
think.” 

‘‘ But the letter ? ” asked Jimmy. 

A little fake,” said Angel airily, ‘‘ Mr. Sped- 
ding’s little ballon d'essai, so foolishly simple that 
I think Spedding must be losing his nerve and 
balance. I’d like to bet that this house is being 
watched to see the effect of the note.” (Angel 
would have won his bet.) Now the only ques- 
tion is, what little program have they arranged 
for me this evening ? ” 

Jimmy was thoughtful. 

“ I don’t know,” he said slowly, ‘‘ but I should 
think it would be wiser for you to keep indoors. 


270 Angel Esquire 

You might make me up a bed in your sitting- 
room, and if there is any bother, we can share it” 

“And whistle to keep my courage up?” 
sneered Angel. “ I’ll make you up a bed with all 
the pleasure in life; but I’m going out, Jimmy, 
and I’ll take you with me, if you’ll agree to come 
along and find a man who will replace that con- 
spicuous white bandage by something less blood- 
curdling.” 

They found a man in Devonshire Place who 
was a mutual friend of both. He was a specialist 
in unpronounceable diseases, a Knight Com- 
mander of St. Michael and St. George, a Fellow 
of the two Colleges, and the author of half a 
dozen works of medical science. Angel addressed 
him as “ Bill.” 

The great surgeon deftly dressed the damaged 
head of Jimmy, and wisely asked no questions. 
He knew them both, and had been at Oxford 
with one, and he permitted himself to indulge in 
caustic comments on their mode of life and the 
possibilities of their end. 


Connor Takes a Hand 271 

“If you didn’t jaw so much,” said Angel, “ I’d 
employ you regularly; as it is, I am very doubtful 
if I shall ever bring you another case.” 

“ For which,” said Sir William Farran, as he 
clipped the loose ends of the dressing, “ I am 
greatly obliged to you, Angel Esquire. You are 
the sort of patient I like to see about once a year 
— ^just about Christmas-time, when I am surfeited 
with charity toward mankind, when I need a 
healthy moral corrective to tone down the bright 
picture to its normal grayness — that’s the time 
you’re welcome, Angel.” 

“ Fine ! ” said Angel ecstatically. “ I’d like to 
see that sentence in a book, with illustrations.” 

The surgeon smiled good-humoredly. He put 
a final touch to the dressing. 

“ There you are,” he said. 

“ Thank you, Bill,” said Jimmy. “ You’re 
getting fat.” 

“ Thank you for nothing,” said the surgeon 
indignantly. 

Angel struck a more serious tone when he 


272 " Angel Esquire 

asked the surgeon in an undertone, just as they 
were taking their departure — 

‘‘ Where will you be to-night ? 

The surgeon consulted a little engagement 
book. 

“ I am dining at the ‘ Ritz ' with some people 
at eight. We are going on to the Gaiety after- 
wards, and I shall be home by twelve. Why? ’’ 

“ There’s a gentleman,” said Angel confiden- 
tially, ‘‘ who will make a valiant attempt to kill 
one of us, or both of us to-night, and he might 
just fail; so it would be as well to know where 
you are, if you are wanted. Mind you,” added 
Angel with a grin, “you might be wanted for 
him” 

“ You’re a queer bird,” said the surgeon, “ and 
Jimmy’s a queerer one. Well, off you go, you 
two fellows; you’ll be getting my house a bad 
name.” 

Outside in the street the two ingrates continued 
their discussion on the corpulency that attends 
success in life. 


Connor Takes a Hand 273 

They walked leisurely to Piccadilly, and turned 
towards the circus. It is interesting to record 
the fact that for no apparent reason they struck 
off into side streets, made unexpected excursions 
into adjoining squares, took unnecessary short 
cuts through mews, and finally, finding themselves 
at the Oxford Street end of Charing Cross Road, 
they hailed a hansom, and drove eastward rapidly. 
Angel shouted up some directions through the 
trap in the roof. 

‘‘ I am moved to give the two gentlemen 
who are following me what in sporting par- 
lance is called ' a run for their money,’ ” he 
said. 

He lifted the flap at the back of the cab, glanced 
through the little window, and groaned. Then 
he gave fresh directions to the cabman. 

Drive to the ‘ Troc,’ ” he called, and to Jimmy 
he added, If we must die, let us die full of good 
food.” 

In the thronged grill-room of the brightly- 
lighted restaurant the two men found a table so 


274 Angel Esquire 

placed that it commanded a view of the room. 
They took their seats, and whilst Jimmy ordered 
the dinner Angel watched the stream of people 
entering. 

He saw a dapper little man, with swarthy face 
and coal-black eyes, eyebrows and mustache, come 
through the glass doors. He stood for a breath- 
ing space at the door, his bright eyes flashing 
from face to face. Then he caught Angel’s 
steady gaze, and his eyes rested a little longer on 
the pair. Then Angel beckoned him. He hesi- 
tated for a second, then walked slowly toward 
them. 

Jimmy pulled a chair from the table, and again 
he hesitated as if in doubt; then slowly he seated 
himself, glancing from one to the other suspi- 
ciously. 

Monsieur Callvet — ^ne c’est pas ? ” asked 
Angel. 

“ That is my name,” the other answered in 
French. 

Permit me to introduce myself.” 


Connor Takes a Hand 275 

“ I know you/' said the little man shortly. 
“ You are a detective." 

It is my fortune," said Angel, ignoring the 
bitterness in the man's tone. 

'‘You wish to speak to me?" 

" Yes," replied Angel. " First, I would ask 
why you have been following us for the last 
hour?" 

The man shrugged his shoulders. 

“ Monsieur is mistaken." 

Jimmy had been very quiet during the evening. 
Now he addressed the Frenchman. 

" Call vet," he said briefly, " do you know who 
I am?" 

" Yes, you are also a detective." 

Jimmy looked him straight in the eyes. 

" I am not a detective, Callvet, as you well 
know. I am " — he felt an unusual repugnance at 
using the next words — " I am Jimmy of Cairo. 
You know me ? " 

" I have heard of you," said the man doggedly. 
" What you are — now — I do not know," said 


276 Angel Esquire 

Jimmy contemptuously. '' I have known you as 
all things — as an ornament of the young Egypt 
party, as a tout for Reale, as a trader in beastli- 
ness.” 

The conversation was in colloquial French, and 
Jimmy used a phrase which is calculated to raise 
the hair of the most brazen scoundrel. But this 
man shrugged his shoulders and rose to 
go. Jimmy caught his sleeve and detained 
him. 

Callvet,” he said, ‘‘ go back to Mr. Spedding, 
your employer, and tell him the job is too dan- 
gerous. Tell him that one of the men, at least, 
knows enough about you to send you to New 
Caledonia, or else — — ” 

Or else ? ” demanded the man defiantly. 

Or else,” said Jimmy in his hesitating way, 
“ I’ll be sending word to the French Ambassador 
that ‘ Monsieur Plessey ’ is in London.” 

The face of the man turned a sickly green. 

Monsieur — ^je n’en vois pas la necessite,” he 
muttered. 


Connor Takes a Hand 277 

And who is Plessey ? asked Angel when the 
man had gone. 

‘‘ A murderer greatly wanted by the French 
police/’ said Jimmy, ‘‘ and Spedding has well 
chosen his instrument. Angel, there will be 
trouble before the evening is over.” 

They ate their dinner in silence, lingering over 
the coffee. The Frenchman had taken a table at 
the other side of the room. Once when Angel 
went out he made as though to leave, but seeing 
that Jimmy did not move, he changed his mind. 

Angel dawdled through the sweet, and took an 
unconscionable time over his coffee. Jimmy, 
fretting to be gone, groaned as his volatile com- 
panion ordered yet another liqueur. 

“ That’s horribly insidious muck to drink,” 
grumbled Jimmy. 

“ Inelegant, but true,” said Angel. 

He was amused at the obvious efforts of the 
spy at the other table to kill time also. Then 
suddenly Angel rose, leaving his drink untasted, 
and reached for his hat. 


2/8 Angel Esquire 

‘‘ Come along,” he said briskly. 

“ This is very sudden,” remarked the impatient 
Jimmy. 

They walked to the desk and paid their bill, 
and out of the corner of his eye Angel could see 
the dapper Frenchman following them out. 

They stepped out along Shaftesbury Avenue; 
then Jimmy stopped and fumbled in his pocket. 
In his search he turned round, facing the direction 
from which he had come. The dapper French- 
man was sauntering toward him, whilst behind 
him came two roughly-dressed men. Then 
Jimmy saw the two men quicken their pace. 
Passing one on each side of Call vet, each took an 
arm affectionately, and the three turned into 
Rupert Street, Angel and Jimmy following. 

Jimmy saw the three bunched together, and 
heard the click of the handcuffs. Then Angel 
whistled a passing cab. The captive’s voice rose. 
“ Stick a handkerchief in his mouth,” said Angel, 
and one of the men obeyed. The two stood 
watching the cab till it turned the corner. 


Connor Takes a Hand 279 

There is no sense in taking unnecessary 
risks/’ said Angel cheerfully. It is one thing 
being a fool, and another being a silly fool. Now 
we’ll go along and see what else happens.” 

He explained as he proceeded — 

'Tve wanted Callvet for quite a long time — 
he’s on the list, so to speak. I lost sight of him 
a year ago. How Spedding got him is a mystery. 
If the truth be told, he’s got a nodding acquaint- 
ance with half the crooks in London . . . had 
a big criminal practice before he went into the 
more lucrative side of the law.” 

A big crowd had gathered at the corner 
of the Haymarket, and with one accord they 
avoided it. 

'' Curiosity,” Angel prattled on, “ has been the 
undoing of many a poor soul. Keep away from 
crowds, Jimmy.” 

They walked on till they came to Angel’s flat in 
Jermyn Street. 

Spedding will duplicate and triplicate his 
schemes for catching us to-night,” said Jimmy. 


28 o 


Ang,el Esquire 

He will/’ agreed Angel, and opened the door 4 
of the house in which his rooms were. ,|j 

The narrow passageway, in which a light |j 
usually burned day and night, was in darkness. ^ 
Oh, no,” said Angel, stepping back into the || 
street, oh, indeed no ! ” \ 

During their walk Jimmy had had a suspicion 
that they had been followed. This suspicion was , < 
confirmed when Angel whistled, and two men 
crossed the road and joined them. V 

“ Lend me your lamp, Johnson,” said Angel, ' 
and taking the bright little electric lamp in his % 

hand, he entered the passage, followed by the / 

others. They reached the foot of the stairs, then ‘ ’ 

Angel reached back his hand without a word, and v* 

one of the two men placed therein a stick. Cau- 
tiously the party advanced up the stairway that 
led to Angel’s room. | 

I 

‘‘ Somebody has been here,” said Angel, and 
pointed to a patch of mud on the carpet. The / 
door was ajar, and Jimmy sent it open with a 
kick; then Angel put his arm cautiously into the 


Connor Takes a Hand 281 

room and turned on the light, and the party 
waited in the darkness for a movement. 

There was no sign, and they entered. It did 
not require any great ingenuity to see that the 
place had been visited. Half-opened drawers, 
their contents thrown on the floor, and all the 
evidence of a hurried search met their eyes. 

They passed from the little sitting-room to the 
bedroom, and here again the visitors had left 
traces of their investigations. 

Hullo ! Jimmy stopped and picked up a 
soft felt hat. He looked inside; the dull lining 
bore the name of an Egyptian hatter. 

‘‘ Connor's ! " he said. 

‘‘ Ah ! " said Angel softly, ‘‘ so Connor takes 
a hand, does he ? " 

One of the detectives who had followed them 
in grasped Angel's arm. 

“ Look, sir ! " he whispered. 

Half-hidden by the heavy hangings of the win- 
dow, a man crouched in the shadow. 

‘‘ Come out of that ! " cried Angel. 


282 Angel Esquire 

Then something in the man’s attitude arrested 
his speech. He slipped forward and pulled back 
the curtain. 

‘‘ Connor ! ” he cried. 

Connor it was indeed, stone dead, with a bullet 
hole in the center of his forehead. 


CHAPTER XIV 


OPENING THE SAFE 

The four men stood in silence before the body. 
Jimmy bent and touched the hand. 

“ Dead ! he said. 

Angel made no reply, but switched on every 
light in the room. Then he passed his hands 
rapidly through the dead man’s pockets; the 
things he found he passed to one of the other 
detectives, who laid them on the table. 

‘‘ A chisel, a jemmy, a center-bit, lamp, pistol,” 
enumerated Angel. “It is not difficult to under- 
stand why Connor came here; but who killed 
him?” 

He made a close inspection of the apartment. 
The windows were intact and fastened, there were 
no signs of a struggle. In the sitting-room there 

were muddy footmarks, which might have been 
383 


284 Angel Esquire 

made by Connor or his murderer. In the center 
of the room was a small table. During Angel’s 
frequent absences from his lodgings he was in the 
habit of locking his two rooms against his serv- 
ants, who did their cleaning under his eye. In 
consequence, the polished surface of the little 
table was covered with a fine layer of dust, save 
in one place where there was a curious circular 
clearing about eight inches in diameter. Angel 
examined this with scrupulous care, gingerly 
pulling the table to where the light would fall on 
it with greater brilliance. The little circle from 
whence the dust had disappeared interested him 
more than anything else in the room. 

“ You will see that this is not touched,” he said 
to one of the men; and then to the other, ‘‘ You 
had better go round to Vine Street and report 
this — stay, I will go myself.” 

As Jimmy and he stepped briskly in the direc- 
tion of the historic police station, Angel expressed 
himself tersely. 

Connor came on his own to burgle; he was 


Opening the Safe 285 

surprised by a third party, who, thinking Connor 
was myself, shot him.” 

“ That is how I read it,” said Jimmy. “ But 
why did Connor come ? ” 

I have been expecting Connor,” said Angel 
quietly. He was not the sort of man to be 
cowed by the fear of arrest. He had got it into 
his head that I had got the secret of the safe, and 
he came to find out.” 

Inside the station the inspector on duty saluted 
him. 

‘‘ We have one of your men inside,” he said 
pleasantly, referring to the Frenchman; then, 
noticing the grave faces of the two, he added. 

Is anything wrong, sir? ” 

Briefly enough the detective gave an account of 
what had happened in Jermyn Street. He added 
his instructions concerning the table, and left as 
the inspector was summoning the divisional 
surgeon. 

‘‘I wonder where we could find Spedding?” 
asked Angel. 


286 Angel Esquire 

“ I wonder where Spedding will find us ? ” 
added Jimmy grimly. 

Angel looked round in surprise. 

** Losing your nerve ? ” he asked rudely. 

No/' said the cool young man by his side 
slowly; ‘‘ but somehow life seems more precious 
than it was a week ago." 

Fiddlesticks ! " said Angel. ‘‘ You’re in 
love." 

'' Perhaps I am,” admitted Jimmy in a sur- 
prised tone, as if the idea had never occurred to 
him before. 

Angel looked at his watch. 

Ten o’clock," he said; time for all good 
people to be in bed. Being myself of a vicious 
disposition, and, moreover, desirous of washing 
the taste of tragedy out of my mouth, I suggest 
we walk steadily to a place of refreshment." 

** Angel," said Jimmy, ‘‘ I cannot help thinking 
that you like to hear yourself talk." 

I love it," said Angel frankly. 


Opening the Safe 287 

In a little underground bar in Leicester Square 
they sat at a table listening to a little string band 
worry through the overture to Lohengrin. 

The crowded room suited their moods. 
Jimmy, in his preoccupation, found the noise, the 
babble of voices in many tongues, and the wail of 
the struggling orchestra, soothing after the ex- 
citing events of the past few hours. To Angel 
the human element in the crowd formed relaxa- 
tion. The loud-speaking men with their flashy 
jewelry, the painted women with their automatic 
smiles, the sprinkling of keen-faced sharps he 
recognized, they formed part of the pageant of 
life — the life — as Angel saw it. 

They sat sipping their wine until there came a 
man who, glancing carelessly round the room, 
made an imperceptible sign to Angel, and then, 
as if having satisfied himself that the man he 
was looking for was not present, left the room 
again. 

Angel and his companion followed. 

Well?’’ asked Angel. 


288 Angel Esquire 

“ Spedding goes to the safe to-night/' said the 
stranger. 

“ Good/' said Angel. 

“ The guard at the safe is permanently with- 
drawn by Spedding's order." 

That I know," said Angel. It was with- 
drawn the very night the ‘ Borough Lot ' came. 
On whose behalf is Spedding acting? " 

On behalf of Connor, who I understand is 
one of the legatees." 

Angel whistled. 

“ Whew ! Jimmy, this is to be the Grand 
Finale." 

He appeared deep in thought for a moment. 

“ It will be necessary for Miss Kent to be pres- 
ent," he said after a while. 

From a neighboring district messenger office he 
got on by the telephone to a garage, and within 
half an hour they were ringing the bell at Kath- 
leen's modest little house. 

The girl rose to greet them as they entered. 
All sign of the last night's fatigue had vanished. 


Opening the Safe 289 

Yes/' she replied, I have slept the greater 
part of the da}." 

Angel observed that she studiously kept her 
eyes from Jimmy, and that that worthy was pre- 
ternaturally interested in a large seascape that 
hung over the fireplace. 

“ This is the last occasion we shall be troubling 
you at so late an hour," said Angel, but I am 
afraid we shall want you with us to-night." 

I will do whatever you wish," she answered 
simply. You have been, both of you, most 
kind." 

She flashed a glance at Jimmy, and saw for the 
first time the surgical dressing on his head. 

You — ^you are not hurt? " she cried in alarm, 
then checked herself. 

Not at all," said Jimmy loudly, “ nothing, I 
assure you." 

He was in an unusual panic, and wished he had 
not come. 

He tripped over a hearthrug and fell against 
a. marble mantelpiece," lied Angel elaborately. 


290 Angel Esquire 

The marble has been in the possession of my 
family for centuries, and is now bc^dly, and I fear 
irretrievably, damaged.’' 

Jimmy smiled, and his smile was infectious. 

“ A gross libel. Miss Kent,” he said, recovering 
his nerve. '' As a matter of fact ” 

“As a matter of fact,” interrupted Angel 
impressively, “ Jimmy was walking in his 
sleep ” 

“Be serious, Mr. Angel,” implored the girl, 
who was now very concerned as she saw 
the extent of Jimmy’s injury, and noticed 
the dark shadows under his eyes. “ Was it 
Spedding ? ” 

“ It was,” said Angel promptly. “ A little 
attempt which proved a failure.” 

Jimmy saw the concern in the girl’s eyes, and, 
manlike, it cheered him. 

“ It is hardly worth talking about,” he said 
hastily, “ and I think we ought not to delay our 
departure a second.” 

“ I will not keep you a moment longer than I 


opening the Safe 291 

can help/* she said, and left the room to dress 
herself for the journey. 

Jimmy,** said Angel, as soon as she had gone, 
cross my hand with silver, pretty gentleman, 
and I will tell your fortune.** 

** Don*t talk rot,’* replied Jimmy. 

I can see a bright future, a dark lady with 
big gray eyes, who ’* 

For Heaven’s sake, shut up!” growled 
Jimmy, very red; she’s coming.” 

They reached the Safe Deposit when the bells 
of the city were chiming the half-hour after 
eleven. 

Shall we go in ? ** asked Jimmy. 

Better not,” advised Angel. ‘‘If Spedding 
knows we have a key it might spoil the whole 
show.” 

So the car slowly patrolled the narrow length 
of Lombard Street, an object of professional 
interest to the half-dozen plain-clothes policemen 
who were on duty there. 

They had three-quarters of an hour to wait, 


292 Angel Esquire 

for midnight had rung out from the belfries long 
before a big car came gliding into the thorough- 
fare from its western end. It stopped with a 
jerk before the Safe Deposit, and a top-hatted 
figure alighted. As he did so, Angel’s car drew 
up behind, and the three got down. 

Spedding, professionally attired in a frock-coat 
and silk hat, stood with one foot on the steps of 
the building and his hand upon the key he had 
fitted. 

He evinced no surprise when he saw Angel, 
and bowed slightly to the girl. Then he opened 
the door and stepped inside, and Angel and his 
party followed. He lit the vestibule, opened the 
inner door, and walked into the darkened hall. 

Again came the click of switches, and every 
light in the great hall blazed. 

The girl shivered a little as she looked up at 
the safe, dominating and sinister, a monument of 
ruin, a materialization of the dead regrets of a 
thousand bygone gamblers. Solitary, alone, 
aloof it rose, distinct from the magnificent build- 


Opening the Safe 293 

ing in which it stood — a granite mass set in fine 
gold. Old Reale had possessed a good eye for 
contrasts, and had truly foreseen how well would 
the surrounding beauty of the noble hall em- 
phasize the grim reality of the ugly pedestal. 

Spedding closed the door behind them, and 
surveyed the party with a triumphant smile. 

I am afraid,’' he said in his smoothest tones, 
“ you have come too late.” 

‘‘ I am afraid we have,” agreed Angel, and the 
lawyer looked at him suspiciously. 

“ I wrote you a letter,” he said. “ Did you get 
it?” 

I have not been home since this afternoon,” 
said Angel, and he heard the lawyer’s little sigh 
of relief. 

“ I am sorry,” Spedding went on, “ that I have 
to disappoint you all; but as you know, by the 
terms of the will the fortunate person who dis- 
covers the word which opens the safe must notify 
me, claiming the right to apply the word on the 


combination lock.” 


294 Angel Esquire 

“ That is so/’ said Angel. 

“ I have received such a notification from one 
of the legatees — Mr. Connor/’ the lawyer went 
on, and drew from his pocket a paper, ‘‘ and I 
have his written authority to open the safe on his 
behalf.” 

He handed the paper to Angel, who examined 
it and handed it back. 

“ It was signed to-day/’ was all that he said. 

‘^At two o’clock this afternoon,” said the 
lawyer. ‘‘ I now ” 

“ Before you go any further, Mr. Spedding,” 
said Angel, I might remind you that there is a 
lady present, and that you have your hat 
on.” 

“ A thousand pardons,” said the lawyer with a 
sarcastic smile, and removed his hat. Angel 
reached out his hand for it, and mechanically the 
lawyer relinquished it. 

Angel looked at the crown. The nap was 
rubbed the wrong way, and was covered with 
fine dust. 


Opening the Safe 295 

If you desire to valet me/’ said the lawyer, 

I have no objection.” 

Angel made no reply, but placed the hat care- 
fully on the mosaic floor of the hall. 

“ If,” said the lawyer, “ before I open the safe, 
there is any question you would like to ask, or any 
legitimate objection you would wish to raise, I 
shall be happy to consider it.” 

I have nothing to say,” said Angel. 

“Or you?” addressing Jimmy. 

“ Nothing,” was the laconic answer. 

“ Or Miss Kent perhaps ? ” 

Kathleen looked him straight in the face as she 
answered coldly — 

“ I am prepared to abide by the action of rhy 
friends.” 

“ There is nothing left for me to do,” said the 
lawyer after the slightest pause, “but to carry 
out Mr. Connor’s instructions.” 

He walked to the foot of the steel stairway and 
mounted. He stopped for breath half-way up. 
He was on a little landing, and facing him was 


296 Angel Esquire 

the polished block of granite that marked where 
the ashes of old Reale reposed. 

Pulvis 

Cinis 

et 

Nihil 

said the inscription. ‘ Dust, cinders and noth- 
ing,’ ” muttered the lawyer, an apt rebuke to 
one seeking the shadows of vanity.” 

They watched him climb till he reached the 
broad platform that fronted the safe door. Then 
they saw him pull a paper from his pocket and 
examine it. He looked at it carefully, then 
twisted the dials cautiously till one by one the 
desired letters came opposite the pointer. Then 
he twisted the huge handle of the safe. He 
twisted and pulled, but the steel door did not 
move. They saw him stoop and examine the 
dial again, and again he seized the handle with the 
same result. A dozen times he went through the 
same process, and a dozen times the unyielding 


Opening the Safe 297 

door resisted his efforts. Then he came clatter- 
ing down the steps, and almost reeled across the 
floor of the hall to the little group. His eyes 
burnt with an unearthly light, his face was pallid, 
and the perspiration lay thick upon his forehead. 

** The word ! he gasped. “ It’s the wrong 
word.” 

Angel did not answer him. 

‘‘ I have tested it a dozen times,” cried the 
lawyer, almost beside himself, and it has 
failed.” 

Shall I try ? ” asked Angel. 

“No, no!” the man hissed. “By Heaven, 
no ! I will try again. One of the letters is 
wrong; there are two meanings to some of the 
symbols.” 

He turned and remounted the stairs. 

“ The man is suffering,” said Jimmy in an 
undertone. 

“ Let him suffer,” said Angel, a hard look in 
his eyes. “ He will suffer more before he atones 
for his villainy. Look, he’s up again. Let the 


298 Angel Esquire 

men in, Jimmy, he will find the word this time — 
and take Miss Kent away as soon as the trouble 
starts/’ 

The girl saw the sudden mask of hardness that 
had come over Angel’s face, saw him slip off his 
overcoat, and heard the creaking of boots in the 
hall outside. The pleasant, flippant man of the 
world was gone, and the remorseless police officer, 
inscrutable as doom, had taken his place. It was 
a new Angel she saw, and she drew closer to 
Jimmy. 

An exultant shout from the man at the safe 
made her raise her eyes. With a flutter at her 
heart, she saw the ponderous steel door swing 
slowly open. 

Then from the man came a cry that was like 
the snarl of some wild beast. 

Empty ! ” he roared. 

He stood stunned and dumb; then he flung him- 
self into the great steel room, and they heard 
his voice reverberating hollowly. Again he came 
to the platform holding in his hand a white en- 


Opening the Safe 299 

velope. Blindly he blundered down the stairs 
again, and they could hear his heavy breathing. 

“ Empty I His grating voice rose to a 
scream. “ Nothing but this ! '' He held the en- 
velope out, then tore it open. 

It contained only a few words — 

‘‘ Received on behalf of Miss Kathleen Kent 
the contents of this safe. 

‘‘(Signed) James Cavendish Stannard, Bart. 

Christopher Angel.'' 

Dazed and bewildered, the lawyer read the 
paper, then looked from one to the other. 

“ So it was you," he said. 

Angel nodded curtly. 

“ You ! " said Spedding again. 

“ Yes." 

“You have robbed the safe — ^you — a police 
officer." 

“ Yes," said Angel, not removing his eyes from 
the man. He motioned to Jimmy, and Jimmy, 
with a whispered word to the girl, led her to the 


lOO Angel Esquire 

door. Behind him, as he returned to Angel’s 
side, came six plain-clothes officers. 

'' So you think you’ve got me, do you ? ” 
breathed Spedding. 

‘‘ I don’t think,” said Angel, ‘‘ I know.” 

“If you know so much, do you know how near 
to death you are ? ” 

“ That also I know,” said Angel’s even voice. 
“ I’m all the more certain of my danger since I 
have seen your hat.” 

The lawyer did not speak. 

“ I mean,” Angel went on calmly, “ since I saw 
the hat that you put down on a dusty table in my 
chambers — when you murdered Connor.” 

“ Oh, you found him, did you — I wondered,” 
said Spedding without emotion. Then he heard 
a faint metallic click, and leapt back with his hand 
in his pocket. 

But Jimmy’s pistol covered him. 

He paused irresolutely for one moment; then 
six men flung themselves upon him, and he went 
to the ground fighting. Handcuffed, he rose, his 


Opening the Safe 301 

nonchalant self, with the full measure of his 
failure apparent. He was once again the suave, 
smooth man of old. Indeed, he laughed as he 
faced Angel. 

‘‘A good end,’’ he said. ‘‘You are a much 
smarter man than I thought you were. What is 
the charge ? ” 

“ Murder,” said Angel. 

“ You will find a difficulty in proving it,” Sped- 
ding answered coolly, “ and as it is customary at 
this stage of the proceedings for the accused to 
make a conventional statement, I formally declare 
that I have not seen Connor for two days.” 

Closely guarded, he walked to the door. He 
passed Kathleen standing in the vestibule, and 
she shrank on one side, which amused him. He 
clambered into the car that had brought him, 
followed by the policemen, and hummed a little 
tune. 

He leaned over to say a final word to Angel. 

“ You think I am indecently cheerful,” he said, 
“ but I feel as a man wearied with folly, who has 


302 Angel Esquire 

the knowledge that before him lies the sound 
sleep that will bring forgetfulness.” 

Then, as the car was moving off, he spoke 
again — 

“Of course I killed Connor — it was inevi- 
table.” 

And then the car carried him away. 

Angel locked the door of the deposit, and 
handed the key to Kathleen. 

“ I will ask Jimmy to take you home,” he said. 

“ What do you think of him? ” said Jimmy. 

“ Spedding ? Oh, he’s acted as I thought he 
would. He represents the very worst type of 
criminal in the world; you cannot condemn, any 
more than you can explain, such men as that. 
They are in a class by themselves — Nature’s per- 
versities. There is a side to Spedding that is 
particularly pleasant.” 

He saw the two off, then walked slowly to the 
City Police Station. The inspector on duty 
nodded to him as he entered. 

“ We have put him in a special cell,” he said. 


Opening the Safe 303 

Has he been well searched ? 

“ Yes, sir. The usual kit, and a revolver 
loaded in five chambers.’' 

“ Let me see it,” said Angel. 

He took the pistol under the gaslight. One 
chamber contained an empty shell, and the barrel 
was foul. That will hang him without his con- 
fession, he thought. 

He asked for a pencil and paper,” said the 
inspector, “ but he surely does not expect bail.” 

Angel shook his head. 

‘‘No, I should imagine he wants to write to 
me. 

A door burst open, and a bareheaded jailer 
rushed in. 

“ There’s something wrong in No. 4,” he said, 
and Angel followed the inspector as he ran down 
the narrow corridor, studded with iron doors on 
either side. 

The inspector took one glance through the spy- 
hole. 


“ Open the door ! ” he said quickly. 


304 Angel Esquire 

With a jangle and rattle of bolts, the door was 
opened. Spedding lay on his back, with a faint 
smile on his lips; his eyes were closed, and Angel, 
thrusting his hand into the breast of the stricken 
man, felt no beat of the heart. 

“ Run for a doctor ! said the inspector. 

“ It’s no use,” said Angel quietly, “ the man’s 
dead.” 

On the rough bed lay a piece of paper. It was 
addressed in the lawyer’s bold hand to Angel 
Esquire. 

The detective picked it up and read it. 

“ Excellent Angel,” the letter ran, “ the time 
has come when I must prove for myself the vexed 
question of immortality. I would say that I bear 
you no ill will, nor your companion, nor the 
charming Miss Kent. I would have killed you all, 
or either, of course, but happily my intentions 
have not coincided with my opportunities. For 
some time past I have foreseen the possibility of 
my present act, and have worn on every suit one 
button, which, colored to resemble its fellows, is 


Opening the Safe 305 

in reality a skilfully molded pellet of cyanide. 
Farewell.” 

Angel looked down at the dead man at his feet. 
The top cloth-covered button on the right breast 
had been torn away. 


CHAPTER XV. 

/ 

THE SOLUTION 

If you can understand that all the extraor- 
dinary events of the previous chapters occurred 
without the knowledge of Fleet Street, that emi- 
nent journalists went about their business day by 
day without being any the wiser, that eager news 
editors were diligently searching the files of the 
provincial press for news items, with the mystery 
of the safe at their very door, and that reporters 
all over London were wasting their time over 
wretched little motor-bus accidents and gas ex- 
plosions, you will all the easier appreciate the 
journalistic explosion that followed the double 
inquest on Spedding and his victim. 

It is outside the province of this story to in- 
struct the reader in what is so much technical 
detail, but it may be said in passing that no less 

than twelve reporters, three sub-editors, two 
306 


The Solution 


307 

‘‘ crime experts,” and one publisher were sum- 
marily and incontinently discharged from their 
various newspapers in connection with the “ Safe 
Story.” The Megaphone alone lost five men, but 
then the Megaphone invariably discharges more 
than any other paper, because it has got a reputa- 
tion to sustain. Flaring contents bills, heavy 
black headlines, and column upon column of solid 
type, told the story of Reale’s millions, and the 
villainous lawyer, and the remarkable verse, and 
the Borough Lot.” There were portraits of 
Angel and portraits of Jimmy and portraits of 
Kathleen (sketched in court and accordingly re- 
pulsive), and plans of the lawyer’s house at Clap- 
ham and sketches of the Safe Deposit. 

So for the three days that the coroner’s inquiry 
lasted London, and Fleet Street more especially, 
reveled in the story of the old croupier’s remark- 
able will and its tragic consequences. The Crown 
solicitors very tactfully skimmed over Jimmy’s 
adventurous past, were brief in their examination 
of Kathleen; but Angel’s interrogation lasted the 


3o 8 Angel Esquire 

greater part of five hours, for upon him devolved 
the task of telling the story in full. 

It must be confessed that Angel's evidence was 
a remarkably successful effort to justify all that 
Scotland Yard had done. There were certain ir- 
regularities to be glossed over, topics to be 
avoided — why, for instance, official action was 
not taken when it was seen that Spedding contem- 
plated a felony. Most worthily did Angel hold 
the fort for officialdom that day, and when he 
vacated the box he left behind him the impression 
that Scotland Yard was all foreseeing, all wise, 
and had added yet another to its list of successful 
cases. 

The newspaper excitement lasted exactly four 
days. On the fourth day, speaking at the Annual 
Congress of the British Association, Sir William 
Farran, that great physician, in the course of an 
illuminating address on '' The first causes of dis- 
ease," announced as his firm conviction that all 
the ills that flesh is heir to arise primarily from 
the wearing of boots, and the excitement that 


The Solution 


309 

followed the appearance in Cheapside of a con- 
verted Lord Mayor with bare feet will long be 
remembered in the history of British journalism. 
It was enough, at any rate, to blot out the memory 
of the Reale case, for immediately following the 
vision of a stout and respected member of the 
Haberdasher Company in full robes and chain of 
office entering the Mansion House insufficiently 
clad there arose that memorable newspaper dis- 
cussion ‘‘ Boots and Crime,’' which threatened at 
one time to shake established society to its very 
foundations. 

Bill is a brick,” wrote Angel to Jimmy. ‘‘ I 
suggested to him that he might make a sensational 
statement about microbes, but he said that the 
Lancet had worked bugs to death, and offered the 
‘ no boots ’ alternative.” 

It was a fortnight after the inquiry that Jimmy 
drove to Streatham to carry out his promise to 
explain to Kathleen the solution of the crypto- 
gram. 

Jt was his last visit to her, that much he had 


310 Angel Esquire 

decided. His rejection of her offer to equally 
share old Reale's fortune left but one course open 
to him, and that he elected to take. 

She expected vhim, and he found her sitting 
before a cozy fire idly turning the leaves of a 
book. 

Jimmy stood for a moment in an embarrassed 
silence. It was the first time he had been alone 
with her, save the night he drove with her to 
Streatham, and he was a little at a loss for an 
opening. 

He began conventionally enough speaking 
about the weather, and not to be outdone in com- 
monplace, she ordered tea. 

And now. Miss Kent," he said, I have got 
to explain to you the solution of old Reale’s 
cryptogram." 

He took a sheet of paper from his pocket cov- 
ered with hieroglyphics. 

“ Where old Reale got his idea of the crypto- 
gram from was, of course, Egypt. He lived 
there long enough to be fairly well acquainted 


The Solution 


311 

with the picture letters that abound in that coun- 
try, and we were fools not to jump at the solution 
at first. I don’t mean you,” he added hastily. 
“ I mean Angel and I and Connor, and all the 
people who were associated with him.” 

The girl was looking at the sheet, and smiled 
quietly at the faux pas. 

“ How he came into touch with the ‘ pro- 
fessor ’ ” 

What has happened to that poor old man? ” 
she asked. 

“ Angel has got him into some kind of insti- 
tute,” replied Jimmy. He’s a fairly common 
type of cranky old gentleman. ‘ A science pot- 
terer,’ Angel calls him, and that is about the de- 
scription. He’s the sort of man that haunts the 
Admiralty with plans for unsinkable battleships, a 
' minus genius ’ — that’s Angel’s description too — 
who, with an academic knowledge and a good 
memory, produced a reasonably clever little book, 
that five hundred other schoolmasters might just 
as easily have written. How the professor came 


312 Angel Esquire 

into Reale’s life we shall never know. Probably 
he came across the book and discovered the 
author, and trusting to his madness, made a con- 
fidant of him. Do you remember,” Jimmy went 
on, that you said the figures reminded you of 
the Bible? Well, you are right. Almost every 
teacher’s Bible, I find, has a plate showing how 
the alphabet came into existence.” 

He indicated with his finger as he spoke. 

Here is the Egyptian hieroglyphic. Here is 
a * hand ’ that means ‘ D,’ and here is the queer 
little Hieratic wiggle that means the same thing, 
and you see how the Phoenician letter is very little 
different to the hieroglyphic, and the Greek 
' delta ’ has become a triangle, and locally it has 
become the ‘ D ’ we know.” He sketched rapidly. 

cfla <3 A j> D 

All this is horribly learned,” he said, ‘‘ and 
has got nothing to do with the solution. But old 
Reale went through the strange birds, beasts 


The Solution 


313 

and things till he found six letters, SPRING, 
which were to form the word that would open 
the safe/’ 

“ It is very interesting,” she said, a little be- 
wildered. 

‘‘ The night you were taken away,” said 
Jimmy, we found the word and cleared out the 
safe in case of accidents. It was a very risky 
proceeding on our part, because we had no author- 
ity from you to act on your behalf.” 

“ You did right,” she said. She felt it was a 
feeble rejoinder, but she could think of nothing 
better. 

‘‘And that is all,” he ended abruptly, and 
looked at the clock. 

“ You must have some tea before you go,” she 
said hurriedly. 

They heard the weird shriek of a motor-horn 
outside, and Jimmy smiled. 

That is Angel’s newest discovery,” he said, 
not knowing whether to bless or curse his ener- 
getic friend for spoiling the tete-d- tete» 


314 Angel Esquire 

‘‘ Oh ! ” said the girl, a little blankly he 
thought. 

‘‘ Angel is always experimenting with new 
noises,'' said Jimmy, “and some fellow has intro- 
duced him to a motor-siren which is claimed to 
possess an almost human voice." 

The bell tinkled, and a few seconds after Angel 
was ushered into the room. 

“ I have only come for a few minutes," he said 
cheerfully. “ I wanted to see Jimmy before he 
sailed, and as I have been called out of town 
unexpectedly " 

“ Before he sails ? " she repeated slowly. “ Are 
you going away ? " 

“ Oh, yes, he's going away," said Angel, avoid- 
ing Jimmy's scowling eyes. “ I thought he would 
have told you." 

“ I " began Jimmy. 

“ He's going into the French Congo to shoot 
elephants," Angel rattled on; “though what the 
poor elephants have done to him I have yet to 
discover." 


The Solution 


315 

But this is sudden ? ” 

She was busy with the tea things, and had her 
back toward them, so Jimmy did not see her hand 
tremble. 

“ You’re spilling the milk,” said the interfering 
Angel. Shall I help you ? ” 

“ No, thank you,” she replied tartly. 

“ This tea is delicious,” said Angel, unabashed, 
as he took his cup. He had come to perform a 
duty, and he was going through with it. You 
won’t get afternoon tea on the Sangar River, 
Jimmy. I know because I have been there, and 
I wouldn’t go again, not even if they made me 
governor of the province.” 

'' Why ? ” she asked, with a futile attempt to 
appear indifferent. 

'' Please take no notice of Angel, Miss Kent,” 
implored Jimmy, and added malevolently, Angel 
is a big game shot, you know, and he is anxious 
to impress you with the extent and dangers of his 
travels.” 

That is so,” agreed Angel contentedly, but 


3 1 6 Angel Esquire 

all the same, Miss Kent, I must stand by what I 
said in regard to the ^ Frongo/ It’s a deadly 
country, full of fever. Fve known chaps to com- 
plain of a headache at four o’clock and be dead 
by ten, and Jimmy knows it too.” 

‘‘ You are very depressing to-day, Mr. Angel,” 
said the girl. She felt unaccountably shaky, and 
tried to tell herself that it was because she had not 
recovered from the effects of her recent exciting 
experiences. 

I was with a party once on the Sangar River,” 
Angel said, cocking a . reflective eye at the ceiling. 
‘‘We were looking for elephants, too, a terribly 
dangerous business. I’ve known a bull elephant 
charge a hunter and ” 

“ Angel ! ” stormed Jimmy, “ will you be kind 
enough to reserve your reminiscences for another 
occasion ? ” 

Angel rose and put down his teacup sadly. 

“ Ah, well ! ” he sighed lugubriously, “ after 
all, life is a burden, and one might as well die in 
the French Congo — a particularly lonely place to 


The Solution 


317 

die in, I admit — as anywhere else. Good-by, 
Jimmy/’ He held out his hand mournfully. 

“ Don’t be a goat ! ” entreated Jimmy. ‘‘ I will 
let you know from time to time how I am; you 
can send your letters via Sierra Leone.” 

“ The White Man’s Grave ! ” murmured Angel 
audibly. 

And I’ll let you know in plenty of time when 
I return.” 

“ When ! ” said Angel significantly. He shook 
hands limply, and with the air of a man taking an 
eternal farewell. Then he left the room, and they 
could hear the eerie whine of his patent siren 
growing fainter and fainter. 

Confound that chap! ” said Jimmy. “ With 
his glum face and extravagant gloom he ” 

Why did you not tell me you were going ? ” 
she asked him quietly. She stood with a neat 
foot on the fender and her head a little bent. 

“ I had come to tell you,” said Jimmy. 

“ Why are you going ? ” 

Jimmy cleared his throat. 


3 1 8 Angel Esquire 

“ Because I need the change/’ he said almost 
brusquely. 

Are you tired — of your friends? ” she asked, 
not lifting her eyes. 

I have so few friends,” said Jimmy bitterly. 
“ People here who are worth knowing know 
me.” 

“ What do they know ? ” she asked, and looked 
at him. 

“ They know my life,” he said doggedly, 

from the day I was sent down from Oxford to 
the day I succeeded to my uncle’s title and estates. 
They know I have been all over the world picking 
up strange acquaintances. They know I was one 
of the” — he hesitated for a word — “ gang that 
robbed Rahbat Pasha’s bank; that I held a big 
share in Reale’s ventures — a share he robbed me 
of, but let that pass; that my life has been con- 
sistently employed in evading the law.” 

For whose benefit ? ” she asked. 

God knows,” he said wearily, ‘‘ not for mine. 
I have never felt the need of money, my uncle 


The Solution 


319 

saw to that. I should never have seen Reale 
again but for a desire to get justice. If you think 
I have robbed for gain, you are mistaken. I have 
robbed for the game’s sake, for the excitement 
of it, for the constant fight of wits against men 
as keen- as myself. Men like Angel made me a 
thief.” 

“ And now ? ” she asked. 

‘‘ And now,” he said, straightening himself up, 
“ I am done with the old life. I am sick and 
sorry — and finished.” 

“ And is this African trip part of your scheme 
of penitence ? ” she asked. “ Or are you going 
away because you want to forget ” 

Her voice had sunk almost to a whisper, and 
her eyes were looking into the fire. 

“ What? ” he asked huskily. 

“To forget — ^me,” she breathed. 

“ Yes, yes,” he said, “ that is what I want to 
forget.” 

“ Why? ” she said, not looking at him. 

“ Because — oh, because I love you too much. 


320 Angel Esquire 

dear, to want to drag you down to my level. I 
love you more than I thought it possible to love a 
woman — so much, that I am happy to sacrifice the 
dearest wish of my heart, because I think I will 
serve you better by leaving you.” 

He took her hand and held it between his two 
strong hands. 

‘‘ Don’t you think,” she whispered, so that he 
had to bend closer to hear what she said, “ don’t 
you think I — I ought to be consulted ? ” 

“ You — ^you,” he cried in wonderment, ‘‘ would 
you ” 

She looked at him with a smile, and her eyes 
were radiant with unspoken happiness. 

'' I want you, Jimmy,” she said. It was the 
first time she had called him by name. I want 
you, dear.” 

His arms were about her, and her lips met his. 

They did not hear the tinkle of the bell, but 
they heard the knock at the door, and the girl 
slipped from his arms and was collecting the tea- 
things when Angel walked in. 


The Solution 


321 

He looked at Jimmy inanely, fiddling with his 
watch chain, and he looked at the girl. 

“ Awfully sorry to intrude again,” he said, 
‘‘but I got a wire at the little postoffice up the 
road telling me I needn’t take the case at New- 
castle, so I thought I’d come back and tell you, 
Jimmy, that I will take what I might call a ‘ ceme- 
tery drink ’ with you to-night.” 

“ I am not going,” said Jimmy, recovering his 
calm. 

“ Not — not going? ” said the astonished Angel. 

“ No,” said the girl, speaking over his shoulder, 
“ I have persuaded him to stay.” 

“ Ah, so I see ! ” said Angel, stooping to pick 
up two hairpins that lay on the hearthrug. 


THE END 


I 




\ 


I 


\ 


i 


A 

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A little book for the urbane, compiled by E. V. Lucas. 

Over 200 selections in verse and prose from 100 authors, 
including : James R. Lowell, Burroughs, Herrick, Thackeray, 
Scott, Vaughn, Milton, Cowley, Browning, Stevenson, Henley, 
Longfellow, Keats, Swift, Meredith, Lamb, Lang, Dobson, 
Fitzgerald, Pepys, Addison, Kemble, Boswell, Holmes, Walpole, 
and Lovelace. 

* Would have delighted Charles Lamb.”— Nation. 


A BOOK OF VERSES FOR CHILDREN 

Over 200 poems representing some 80 authors. Compiled by 
E. V. Lucas. With decorations by F. D. Bedford. Bevised 
edition. $2.00. Library edition, $1.00 net. 

*‘We knovir of no other anthology for children so complete and well 
arranged. ’ Critic. 

' HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 


' HAR -0 I9A2 
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